


Started, incomplete stories and unfinished business

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 49,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is a bunch of stories I've started but never finished. It's jumps alot in time and is all over the place. I get an idea and write something, before a new idea pops up. Some of the storiesI started are longer than others. Some could probably be put together. Some of them gives a brief fun look into the wizarding world. A lot of genres too, from funny, to sad, to angsty.I can honestly say these will never be completed, but if you feel inspired and want to use anything from them, then feel free to do so!





	1. 01

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dark lord Potter story, How it began...

In his second year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter was accused of being a dark lord and Slytherin’s heir. 

 

Harry Potter was placed on the Dursley’s doorstep by Dumbledore who would forever come to regret this decision, he just didn’t know it yet.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The boy who identified as Freak grew up neglected, abused and hated by his relatives. He had been sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs for as long as he could remember. Forced to make every meal and only getting a minimum of food himself. Uncle Vernon punished him regularly, for doing something wrong, being to slow or just if he felt like it. His aunt forced him to weed the garden, clean the whole house and whatever else needed to be done. He would be locked in his cupboard without food if anything unnatural or freaky happened, not that he really knew what that meant. He stayed silent, never asking questions, knowing it would only lead to more pain. He wore Dudley’s old clothes which were several sizes too big as his relatives didn’t want to waste money on him. One day he was punished severely for dropping something. While his uncle was punishing him, he somehow sat fire to the kitchen table. His relatives had been slightly afraid of him after the incident, but life quickly returned to normal. He grew to hate his relatives, often wishing for someone to take him away.

It wasn’t before he started primary school he learned his real name, Harry James Potter. He was bullied from day one by the other children for not even knowing his own name. No one had ever called him that, so how was he supposed to know? It had always been Freak or Boy. His cousin made sure none of the other children dared talk to him, thus he was never able to make any friends. Not that he wanted to befriend them, silently thinking they didn’t deserve his friendship. Harry started to hate his life. He hated his so-called relatives and often wished they would die in a car crash just like his parents. His hate grew and so did the pain in his scar. It would slowly start to burn whenever he got angry.

Harry was often pushed around or beaten up for fun both at school and on Privet Drive. One time he managed to get away by transporting himself onto the school roof. This lead to him slowly discovering that he was different. He was able to do thing no one else could. He spent every free moment trying to control his powers, learning new amazing abilities and how to use them. He could set fire to things or levitate objects with his mind. He could make people hurt. He could teleport himself to places he had been before. He could read minds and see what people were thinking. He could do magic!

Seven-year-old Harry had gotten a haircut by his aunt. He didn’t like it, looking bald with very short hair. He sat in his cupboard, thinking he might be able to use his magic to grow it back. Concentrating, he silently wished for longer hair. To his surprise his hair grew instantly. It grew longer than it had ever been, reaching all the way down to his lap. He stared disbelievingly. Trying to wish for shorter hair worked when he visualized it in his mind, thinking of how he wanted it to look. He saw his hair shorten just as fast as it had grown. He sat on his small cot, growing and shortening his hair repeatedly before thinking he might be able to do other things. Visualizing another color, he changed his hair to white. Slightly startled that it worked, he slowly made his way through every color he could think off. Harry Potter was a metamorphmagus.

Eight-year-old Harry was no longer punished or beaten by his uncle or cousin. His relatives were afraid of him now. After an incident were his uncle had pushed him down the stairs, Harry had snapped and without pause used his powers, making his uncle hurt. The fat man had fallen to the floor withering and screaming in pain. His scar burned on his forehead. When he stopped, coming back to his senses, Uncle Vernon was lying unconscious on the floor, his aunt and cousin staring wide-eyed from the kitchen door. His aunt had taken his uncle to the hospital, apparently something, like a forceful pressure on his brain, had caused an aneurysm. Uncle Vernon had been told by the doctor that he was lucky to be alive. His aunt and uncle had avoided him ever since. They had stopped forcing him to do chores or make food. His aunt had even given him Dudley’s second bedroom. They tried their best to ignore him and pretend he didn’t exist, which suited Harry just fine.

Nine-year-old Harry clasped his hands to his forehead as he felt a sharp pain. He was unknowingly absorbing the Dark Lord Voldemort’s unintentional seventh horcrux, becoming one with the soul piece. The years of abuse, starvation and his growing hate made it possible for the unknown horcrux to merge together with its host fully. Harry could feel his eyes and head burn as if someone had stabbed him behind his eyeballs. Tears streamed down his face as he sat, rocking back and forth, trying not to scream out in pain. A dome of magic appeared around number four, Privet Drive as the wards fell, cracking loudly in the air. The protection given to Harry by his mother’s sacrifice overridden and destroyed by the soul piece merging with his own. His lightning formed scar slowly disappeared, sinking into his skin and leaving no trace behind. The pain slowly receded. He was amazed when he opened his eyes again. His eyesight was better. He could see everything clearly. It was like a pressure, that had always been present, had finally been removed. Harry traced his finger across his forehead, feeling his now flawless skin scar-free. He didn’t notice his eyes flashing crimson.

Ten-year-old Harry had changed. He no longer required food, having gone a week without eating before his aunt dared remind him of it. It had shocked and scared him slightly, not knowing what was happening to him. He tried to appear normal after that, eating frequently, even though he was anything but ordinary. He assumed it had something to do with his scar disappearing, remembering how painful it had been and everything that happened thereafter. He had paled drastically in the year that had passed. His skin was now an alabaster white, making him look unnatural and otherworldly. His pale complexion stood in sharp contrast to his jet-black hair that seemed to absorb the light around it. His hair reached the middle of his back. He had grown taller, looking more like twelve than the ten-year-old he was. He was still skinny with a lithe build but didn’t look malnourished. His features had sharpened giving him higher cheekbones and a slightly androgynous look. His eyes had brightened, and they now glowed, unknown to Harry, like the curse that had almost killed him as a baby. He kept his changed appearance a secret, knowing everyone at school and people he saw regularly would freak out if they saw him. He was a bit freaked out himself. He used his shapeshifting abilities to change his whole body back to its former self. To everyone else, Harry was still the small malnourished boy, with a light skin tone, normal green eyes, short hair and with a scar on his forehead. He even wore his glasses with normal glass, giving everyone the illusion that he hadn’t changed at all. He somehow felt it was better to keep it hidden.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

In the summer before his eleventh birthday, Harry received a strange letter with the mail. He saw it was addressed to him and oddly specific,  
Harry J. Potter  
The Smallest Bedroom,  
4 Privet Drive,  
Little Whinging, Surrey  
Going up to his room he opened it, only for two pieces of parchment to fall out. After reading the letter, he simply stared. He needed more information. If the letter was real, that meant a whole other world existed, hidden away from sight. It made sense when he thought about all the things he could do. Surely there was others like him. Deciding to find out more, Harry walked downstairs letter in hand ready to confront his aunt and uncle. They had to know something. Maybe his parents had been like him, Harry thought for the first time. Never really having bothered to think about them much.  
He walked into the kitchen seeing everyone still sitting at the table eating breakfast. His aunt and uncle stopped eating when they noticed him standing in the doorway. He walked up and stood at the end of the table before throwing the letter in front of his aunt. 

“Do you know anything about Hogwarts?” He simply asked, getting straight to the point. He saw his aunt pale drastically while his uncle went purple-faced. Harry changed his hair color and eyes to a bright red as a warning when he noticed his uncle was about to lash out. It did the trick and subdued him, changing his angry face to a frightened one in seconds. Harry led his hair and eyes bleed back to their usual colors.

“I can see you do know something. Tell me.” It wasn’t a request. Harry felt his magic react to his intention and reaching out to his aunt who turned slightly bleary eyed.

“You are a wizard. Just like your father and your mother, who was a witch. They went to Hogwarts to learn magic. It is the only magical school in Britain. I wrote to the headmaster when I was eleven, begging him to let me go with Lily. He turned me down. The school is located somewhere in Scotland. You get there by train and stay there for most of the year, only allowed to leave for the holidays. I know they teach potions. I once saw Lily reading a book about the subject.” His aunt recited in an empty monotone voice. His uncle and cousin had paled as soon as she had started speaking, afraid of whatever he was doing to her, even though his cousin looked confused about what she was saying. Harry on the other hand was getting angry. He could feel his anger slowly rising with every new piece of information kept from him.

“Tell me everything you know about my parents. Now!” He managed to whisper in his fury. His uncle and cousin didn’t dare move as several cracks appeared in the kitchen window, snapping loudly as they broke.

“Your mother didn’t discover she was a witch before her ninth birthday. A boy named Severus Snape from our neighborhood told her. He was magical too. Lily and I were close before then. He destroyed that, taking up all of Lily’s time.” His aunt managed to sound scornful even in her current state. “I sometimes followed them to the park, listening in on what he told her. About dragons, dementors, dark lords and magical societies hidden away because of the need for global secrecy. She received a letter on her eleventh birthday inviting her to Hogwarts. It changed our lives. Our parents were so proud of her, like having a witch in the family was something special. I went with her to a hidden shopping street in London called Diagon Alley where she bought everything she needed for her new school. She went away, and I only saw her during Christmas or the summer holidays. Each time she came home with new outlandish stories about castles and magic sounding like fairytales. She eventually slipped further and further away from us, her family, ultimately joining her new world. She married James Potter. Vernon and I were invited to their wedding but declined to go. I didn’t want to be with that crowd. He was supposedly of an older wizarding family going back generations. I don’t know much more about him.” His aunt was jerking slightly in her chair. Drops of sweat visible on her forehead. She continued in her monotone voice, “They eventually got you. At the time a war had broken out in their world and they were forced into hiding. They were killed by a dark lord who also tried to kill you but couldn’t. I don’t now the details.” She ended her recital of knowledge, her eyes going back to normal, looking even more frightened staring up at Harry with wide eyes.  
Harry didn’t really find the information about his parents useful, but the last thing she had said about a war and how they had been killed instead of dying in a car crash peaked his interest. It also made his fury palpable. The air in the kitchen was suffocating, pressing down on all of them. The kitchen windows, the television and even the glass on the table now had large web of visible cracks filling their entire frame. 

“How did I end up here then, if my parents were murdered by some dark lord?” He wanted to know. His aunt was no longer under his immediate control. She was visibly shaking and taking a deep breath she began in an unsteady voice to tell him about Dumbledore and finding him on their doorstep one morning. She told him about the letter which she had burned, not wanting anything from them in her house.  
Harry stood, silently thinking he wanted to meet Dumbledore and ask him why he’d never checked up on him or made sure he was safe from his magic-hating relatives. It was clear to him now. They had treated him like nothing because of his parents. They were afraid. He thought about all the times they had hurt him simply because he had magic, seeing him as a burden hoisted upon them by Dumbledore. Harry didn’t notice his appearance change to his true look. His hair slowly bleeding even darker than before, skin turning pale and unblemished. His eyes starting to glow a brighter color of green. His dark thoughts and anger made the windows explode into several pieces of glass. His relatives shrieked in panic and fright. His cousin diving under the table. Their screams brought him back to reality and he saw the destruction around him. He turned to leave, thinking over all the new information he had been given. He waved his hand, almost as an afterthought, before he reached the kitchen door, his magic reached out flooding the whole room and repairing any damage he had caused. Hearing his uncle yelp in shock made him smirk slightly. He walked upstairs to his room, his look changing back to his normal disguise instinctively.  
Harry intended to write a letter back to this Grand wizard who apparently thought he could do whatever he liked, such as leaving toddlers on doorsteps. He shook his head in disbelief, thinking the wizarding world sounded slightly insane with its magical castles and dark lords.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Minerva McGonagall was preparing her lesson plans for the coming schoolyear. She had a busy schedule even though it was the summer holidays. Albus had gone to the ICW conference in Geneva and in his absence, she was preparing the castle for the usual influx of students. She had sent out acceptance letters to the new batch of first years and had already gotten a steady visit of owls arriving back with parents accepting on their children’s behalf. She was also getting ready to visit a few muggleborns. Something she always took time to do every year. Thankfully, Pomona and Filius helped her with that, taking on the duty to visit most of the children entering their world. She simply didn’t have time to visit all of them while preparing everything else. She had just finished writing down notes on animals she needed to talk with Hagrid about for her lessons with the older years, when one of the school owls flew through the open window landing on the perch next to her desk. She untied the muggle envelope seeing it addressed simply to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry neatly written out with a black pen in a straight line.  
She was slightly curious. It wasn’t a normal thing to see letters addressed as such. Parents usually just wrote either Dumbledore’s or her own name. The thing that confused her the most however, was the clearly muggle paper. She didn’t receive many responses from muggleborns, as none of them really knew they were supposed to write an answer back with the owl that delivered their letter in the first place. She took out the letter, unfolded it and started to read.  
To whom it may concern,  
I received your letter about my acceptance to Hogwarts but see no reason to currently accept as I know next to nothing about it. I would like to request more information before my Guardians and I would consider agreeing of me going to your school of magic. Surely it is normal procedure to give an introduction about Hogwarts to new students, yet this doesn’t seem to be the case?  
I will await your response eagerly, whatever it may be.  
\- Harry J. Potter  
Minerva stared at the signature. She blinked twice, before making a decision and taking a clean piece of parchment and her favorite quill. She wrote a short answer with a time tomorrow morning, thinking she would need to push her muggleborn visits slightly by another day. This however took precedence. She could feel her anger rise, directed at Albus. She had told him they were the worst kind of muggles! If they didn’t allow Harry to attend Hogwarts, well, it would be nothing short of a scandal. 

The next day, Minerva informed Filius and one of the house-elves that she would be out of the castle. She walked down passing the ward line before disapparating away with a loud crack. She appeared on a street where she had only been once before, almost ten years ago. She shivered slightly, looking around on the identical houses lining the street and finding muggle suburbia slightly distasteful. She walked ahead, stopping in front of number four, before going up and pressing the doorbell. It took some time before someone answered. A long-necked woman, who shared a few features with Lily, Minerva noted. This had to be her sister.  
“Mrs. Dursley?” Minerva inquired seeing the other woman pale as she looked her up and down, before her eyes landed on her pointy hat. Petunia opened the door and told her to come in before the neighbors noticed. She walked upstairs leaving Minerva blinking in the hallway.  
Petunia knocked on her nephew’s door. When it swung open by itself she couldn’t help jumping a little. “Your guest has arrived,” she told him, before turning around and getting as far away as possible from what she thought to be a demon.  
Minerva had meanwhile invited herself in to the living room and taken a seat on the couch. She waited, when a young boy suddenly walked in silently. She noticed Harry had grown into an almost carbon copy of his father. She looked him over and seeing the messy hair and round glasses couldn’t help to smile lightly. 

“Hello Mr. Potter, it’s a pleasure finally meeting you. My name is Minerva McGonagall and I’m the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. I teach transfiguration. After receiving your letter, I decided it was better to visit you in person. Are your aunt going to join us?” She looked towards the kitchen where she could hear Harry’s relative.

“No, she isn’t the one you need to convince of going,” the boy said. Minerva looked at him again, thinking he had a beautiful voice. It was light and harmonious, sounding innocent and pure. 

“What?” she replied, finally registering what he had said. Surely, he didn’t mean? “But, why on earth wouldn’t you want to go to Hogwarts? You have been one of the children who’s been on the acceptance list since birth.” She couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.

“And yet, I see no reason to accept going to a school I know nothing about. I only recently found out about magic. I didn’t even know my parents had been murdered,” he explained to her, avoiding the question. She stared, feeling confused.

“Your relatives didn’t tell you? The Headmaster hasn’t explained it to you?” she asked, thinking Albus had checked up on the child, like he said he would. 

“If by the Headmaster you mean Dumbledore, then no. I’ve never met the man.” Harry responded softly. Minerva felt flustered for the first time in a long time. Why had Albus lied to her? Surely, Harry deserved to know the truth. She apologized on Albus’ behalf, before launching into a rather long explanation. She told him about you-know-who, even saying the name Voldemort out loud once. She told him about his fame, and how everybody in their world knew his name and why it had been better for him to grow up away from all of that. She also told him a bit about his parents, after a quick decision. He deserved to know after all. Especially if his aunt hadn’t told him anything. She told him about Lily and her love for charms and potions. She told him how she had fallen in love in her later Hogwarts years. She told him about James and his group of friends, how they loved to prank and cause mayhem in the corridors, leaving out the fact that one of them was his godfather currently in Azkaban for betraying them. He told her about his father’s interest in quidditch and aptitude for transfiguration. She eventually shifted into telling him more about the school. She told him about the different subjects and the castle, how students were sorted into houses. She talked for over an hour, telling him most of what she thought he needed to know. She felt oddly proud of getting him to smile softly for the first time since she had arrived. 

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry said, “I appreciate hearing more about them. And I’ll gladly accept my place in your school. It sounds very interesting.”

“Very well then. I can accompany you to Diagon Alley, where you can buy your school supplies.” Minerva exhaled in quiet gratitude. She had managed to convince him and that was her most important task since seeing his standoffish attitude of even accepting his place at Hogwarts.

“You don’t have to. I’m sure you have other things to do. My aunt has already agreed to take me,” he lied.

“I see, I would recommend hiding your scar,” she advised him. “You are less likely to be mopped that way.”

“Surely my fame isn’t that high.” Harry said. 

“You would be surprised Mr. Potter,” she said rising from the couch. “Before I go, here is your ticket to the train. It leaves on September 1st,” she handed him the standard ticket every student received, “you’ll need to find the platform. It is hidden behind a wall.” She explained how to get onto the platform before saying her farewell, contemplating the quiet and polite child who was so different than his parents. She somehow got the feeling she wouldn’t see Potter join Gryffindor, thinking he might be more suited for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, maybe even Slytherin. She apparated back to Hogwarts, content with how her visit turned out. She would however have words with Albus as soon as he came back from his conference.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry made his aunt take him to Diagon Alley a few days after his eleventh birthday. They drove to London in an awkward silence. Her aunt dropped him off at Charing Cross Road and told him a pub named the Leaky Cauldron should be around somewhere but that she was unable to see it. He told her it was fine, and he would figure it out by himself. She quickly drove off, her shoulders dropping in obvious relief.  
Harry changed his appearance to his actual self, thinking no one would recognize him like this. He was now taller with his pale white skin, long hair and no scar, which was what Professor McGonagall had warned him about letting anyone see. He looked around, trying to find the elusive pub. He pocketed his glasses and walked down the street, looking for any signs of magic. It took a while before he found what he was looking for. He entered the pub and immediately noticed the shift in culture. It was quite unnerving. It was like stepping back in time. The people sitting at the tables wore robes, cloaks and what he would call clothes from Victorian-age. He could see no electricity or modern appliances, no electronics. Candles lit the room, even though there was a fireplace. It was not in use. The reason why became apparent to him moments later when green flames burst to life before a middle-aged woman, who he assumed was a witch, appeared and stepped out carrying a basket full of what looked to be human skulls. Harry stared as no one even raised an eyebrow. It truly was a different world. He followed the woman seeing her walk towards the back. Stepping out in a small courtyard, he saw her tap different bricks making the wall shift and open. She stepped through, disappearing from view. Harry walked towards the doorway and stepped through himself before it could close behind him. He was hard-pressed not to flounder at the sight before him, his mouth almost falling open in astonishment. 

The shopping street of Diagon Alley was bustling with life. Wizard and witches doing their daily errands, children buying their Hogwarts supplies, owls and eagles flying overhead delivering letters. The many different shops open, windows filled with colorful displays. Harry slowly walked down, taking everything in. He saw shops selling animals, broomsticks, robes, cauldrons and everything in between. He walked towards the large marble building Gringotts. Professor McGonagall had described the wizarding bank to him and how it was run by goblins. He walked up the steps and entered.  
It took some time proving he was who he claimed to be. After a test done with blood, he received a golden key making previous keys invalid. He took out a large amount after seeing how much was in his vault. It wasn’t enough to live on forever, but it would get him through his school years. Finishing up in the bank, he chose to buy new clothes first. He still wore Dudley’s cast-off and stood out as sore thumb among the diversely dressed magicals. It would be better to blend in and look like he was part of this new world. He had already gotten nasty looks from some wizards who sneered looking him up and down. Almost as if his muggle clothes were unwelcomed or had offended them. He supposed they didn’t like muggles much, thinking of the war and muggleborns, half-bloods and purebloods McGonagall had explained to him.  
Harry entered a shop called Twilfitt and Tatting’s which had robes and other clothes on display. He ended up getting measured by a seamstress and buying a full wardrobe. Clothes that actually suited him, instead of the rags he had worn. He left the shop wearing new dark-brown ankle boots, black trousers, a dark green shirt which he would classify as medieval in look, a low pointy hat, an open robe going down to his knees in black and green with a silver clasp in front. He looked like a completely different person. He looked like a wizard and for the first time ever feeling like he belonged.  
He bought a multiple compartment trunk in a luggage shop, getting persuaded by the shopkeeper to buy a larger trunk than he initially intended. Six compartments, all password protected. The first for clothes, the second for school supplies, the third for books, the fourth for potion supplies, the fifth for miscellaneous items and the six as an extra. He honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all that space. The trunk was able to shrink down to the size of a matchbox. It required a wand to do it, but the shopkeeper had kindly shrunken it down for him. It was currently in his pocket, weighing no more than a coin. He had already thrown in his new clothes, not wanting to carry multiple bags around.  
He bought the rest of his school supplies, parchment, quills, ink in different colors, potion supplies, glass vials, cauldron, scales, telescope, ending with school uniforms at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. After getting everything, he went to the bookstore and bought the necessary books. He ended up with many more then the ones on his list, finding several that sounded interesting.  
Harry decided to get his wand next, excited for the prospect of learning more magic than he already knew. He entered the wand shop Ollivander’s. The shop was dusty and cast in shadows, multiple boxes filing up every shelf from floor to ceiling. No one was there.

“Hullo,” he called out, a bit creeped out by the shop’s atmosphere. 

“Ah, Mr. Potter. I was wondering when I would be seeing you.” Harry jumped and whirled around. He would forever deny the squeal that left his mouth. The old wandmaker was standing in the corner, smiling creepily down at him. He swallowed, feeling a weird sense of entrapment. “You a certainly a surprise,” Ollivander stated, looking at him with grey eyes. The man made him try out a wide range of different wands. Almost an hour had passed with no luck.

“A tricky customer, eh.” The wandmaker seemed to find joy in the challenge of finding him a suitable wand. Finally, he came from the back of the shop carrying a box. He delicately lifted the wand out before looking at Harry with solemn eyes.

“Eleven inches long, made of Holly with a phoenix feather core.” Harry could see the tension in Ollivander as he handed him the wand. It was entirely anti-climactic. Nothing whatsoever happened. The wand lay dead in his hand, cold to the touch. “I was so sure that would have been it!” Ollivander looked very disappointed. 

“I fear I won’t be able to match you with a wand. I only have a few wands left before you’ve tried every wand in my shop.” He took back the phoenix wand and walked back behind the shelves. Harry tried not to be too worried. What would happen if they didn’t find him a wand? He guessed he would find out if it became reality. Ollivander came back holding a slightly bigger box.

“These wands have never had any owners. They were made before my time and neither myself or my ancestors have been able to find them a suitable match. I’ve stopped trying to find them owners but maybe today is the lucky day.” He took out the first and hesitated slightly.

“Twelve and a half inches long, made of yew, unyielding,” Ollivander traced the pale wand with his fingers, “it has a dragon heartstring core from a Peruvian Vipertooth. One of the most poisonous dragon species in the world.” He slowly handed it over to Harry while watching carefully. As soon as Harry’s hand grasped the wood a multitude of colored sparks exploded from the tip. Harry felt the wand warm up in his palm. His hair billowed slightly in a non-existent breeze. The feeling he got made him smile. Ollivander coughed, jerking upright.

“Well, you are certainly a surprise Mr. Potter,” the wandmaker repeated his earlier statement. “The wand that have chosen you is able to perform in most branches of magic but with a stronger aptitude for the dark arts and dueling.” Ollivander looked him over and Harry felt like he was being measured.

“I think it’s safe to say that we can expect great things from you Mr. Potter. After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things too. Terrible, yet great.” Harry shivered slightly. He payed for his new wand, while also buying a wand kit set and a wrist holster after asking about the best way to carry it. He left the shop with his new wand strapped to his left wrist underneath his sleeve.


	2. 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> start of a Harry Potter / Doctor Who Crossover  
> MoD Harry

The Child of Death  
Chapter 1: The stowaway

Harry Potter was standing in front of the stone gateway his godfather had fallen through. He had snuck into the Department of Mysteries invisible to everyone. Taking a step towards the Veil of Death, he couldn’t help to hope that he might be able to see Sirius again. Maybe even his parents. Loved ones that had left him for the other side.  
Everything had gone wrong after his defeat of Voldemort. He blamed the Deathly Hallows. He blamed Death or whoever had created those damnable objects in the first place. He blamed Dumbledore for giving him two of them. He blamed Draco Malfoy for mastering the Elder wand when he disarmed him. He blamed himself for picking them up and never believing the myths or legends.

Everything had slowly returned to normal after the war. Hogwarts was rebuilt. Kingsley took over as Minister. He was offered a job as an auror, which he gladly accepted. Ron and Hermione had gotten engaged. He was going steady with Ginny. His life had finally brightened up until his bad luck had returned with a vengeance. Typical Potter luck, he thought sarcastically. Just before his eighteenth birthday, the three Deathly Hallows had magically appeared before him. Even though he had thrown away the Resurrection stone and placed the Elder wand back in Dumbledore’s grave, only keeping his invisibility cloak. They had appeared and merged together. He had thankfully been alone at the time, not that it had helped him. The white orb of light that had been the Hallows raced towards him, slamming into his chest.   
It had changed him, to put it mildly. He had stopped aging. His magic had grown, transformed into something completely different. He didn’t need his cloak, able to become undetectable and invisible with a thought. He could no longer use a wand. Not that he needed it. He just needed to wave a hand or want something and it would happen. His intent was all that mattered. Able to dry out oceans and take down mountains with a single thought, he had become a god. A god of Death. He could see when people would die just by looking at them. He knew time by instinct. It was all around him. The timelines of everyone alive always changing and evolving. He had become a constant, never changing, in a universe always fluctuating.

Harry had tried to hide it at first. Quitting his job and kept a low profile. Ginny and his friends obviously noticed his changed behaviour. Ginny had confronted him, and all he could think of was the date of her death coming to him brightly in his mind. He thought about running away. He couldn’t stay with her, seeing her grow old while he wouldn’t change at all. It hit him then that he would see everyone around him die eventually. He stretched and prolonged telling the truth as far as he could. He had been in denial. Cursed with his apparent immortality, time eventually caught up with him. His friends were starting to age, while he remained young. When Ginny started to talk about children, he decided to come clean. He managed to tell Ginny, Ron and Hermione. He told them about the Hallows, about how he had seemingly absorbed them. He told them about his immortality, removing the transfigurations and glamours he applied daily to make himself look older. To say they had been shocked by his seventeen-year-old appearance would be an understatement. They had been disappointed he hadn’t told them sooner. Ginny had broken down crying. They had however stood with him. Deciding it didn’t matter in the end. He would always be their friend and family.   
Harry and Ginny had broken up a couple of months later on good terms. She eventually married and had the children she dreamed of. Harry on the other hand had retreated, drawn away from society and the world as a whole. Rarely speaking with anyone, and then only his closest friends. His name became legend. A story parents told their children. He had been and still was severely depressed. He couldn’t handle seeing the ones he loved die. Most of them were gone now. The world had changed while he had not. 

Harry took another step towards the veil, walking through the gateway, leaving the reality he knew and his world behind.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry wasn’t dead. It was a bright day, the sun shining down at him. Lying on the ground, he curiously looked around, honestly a bit shocked at the turn of events which happened rarely these days. Grass and flowers. He was lying on a grassy field, a forest in the distance. A blue police box a few feet away. He did a double take. What was a police box during in the middle of nowhere? He didn’t recognize his surroundings.   
He made to stand up and investigate only to freeze looking down at his hand. It was smaller. Much smaller. Standing up and looking himself over he quickly found out he had shrunken down. His clothes hung loosely to his petite frame. He was not as tall as he had been when stepping through the veil. He waved his hand distractedly, conjuring a full-length mirror that hovered in the air. His eyes grew large and he would forever deny the squeak that left his mouth. Clasping his hands in front of it, horrified of the light voice that had come out. He slowly moved forwards almost pressing his small nose against the glass. What the hell? He was tiny. A child! He looked to be no more than seven, maybe eight if he squinted his eyes a bit. He was beyond freaked out and severely hoped he wasn’t stuck like this.

He could still recognise himself slightly. Although the malnourished child he had been at this age was far from what he was seeing now. There were some obvious differences. His skin was pale with no scarring or marks, not even his lightning scar which had always adorned his forehead. His skin was flawless. It was an unusual alabaster white, making him look otherworldly. His pale complexion stood in stark contrast to his unruly jet-black hair that seemed to absorb the light around him. His features had softened slightly but was still well-defined with high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. It gave him an aristocratic and slightly androgynous look. His eyes were glowing, the unnatural green looking inhuman, and he couldn’t help to compare them with the killing curse, shivering slightly. Harry looked down at his clothes and boots that was now way too large for him. His intent was all that was needed, and it changed, shrinking, shifting in colour until it fit him perfectly. He body was no more than 4’ feet tall with a lithe build. He made the mirror vanish silently and turned. 

Harry walked towards the police box, immensely curious about where he was. Obviously, he had to still be in England. He couldn’t think of any other country who had blue police boxes like this, and the writing was definitely plain English.  
As he neared the blue box, he suddenly felt a foreign presence. He looked up sharply at the double doors. The hallows had given him what Snape was never able to teach, a protected mind. He knew his mind was impenetrable unless he allowed it to happen. He ignored the constant badgering against his mental shield that acted like a black void. Anyone trying to use legilimency on him would see only darkness. A black empty space. He slowly reached out and tried to open the door. To his surprise they banged open letting him see inside. He gaped slightly, not prepared for the huge open space but quickly composed himself. It wasn’t the first time he had seen something bigger on the inside after all, thinking back to the Weasleys tent, Grimmauld Place and his trunk. All that was needed was an extension charm.

Harry slowly made his way inside and saw it was empty. No one else was here. He looked around and was slightly awed by what was some kind of console in the middle of the circular room. It looked like no muggle technology he had ever seen. He walked up a few steps, looking curiously around with wide eyes. It had buttons, levers, a screen, phone, and a strange cylinder in the middle going up to the ceiling. The foreign presence in his mind was consistent, and seeing no one around, Harry wondered who it was. He did something he would probably regret and lowered his mind shield. The feelings and emotions that washed over him was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Contentment at his allowance of communication. Happiness for getting a new passenger. Passenger? Harry wondered, starting to get bewildered by what was happening.

Harry jumped as a sudden voice was speaking in his mind. time and relative dimensions in space, tardis. The unknown female said. He looked around. Not seeing anything. He felt amusement and what he would describe as laughter. Harry huffed crossing his arms. He was going crazy, he thought. The amusement he felt only grew. Suddenly the screen turned on and the machine made a sound. He would classify it as purring. Blinking, he read the message on the screen ‘time and relative dimensions in space, tardis.’ Okay, he was officially freaked out.

Able to travel anywhere in time and space, the voice said in his mind. He looked up, wide eyes going to the ceiling. Was he talking to a building? A spaceship? More laughter and delight. Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. This had to be the weirdest thing that had happened to him. Even weirder than the Hallows. He slowly made his way around the console and walked down stairs, seeing multiple doors leading further in to the unknown. How big was this place? Standing below the main deck, he supposed it was, he saw multiple cables and wires going into the time machine. And wasn’t that a weird thought. He was sure his world had nothing like this. Sure, there was time-turners, but this was on a whole other scale. Maybe the veil had transported him to another reality entirely?  
He jumped slightly when he heard the doors upstairs bang open, voices following behind. The voice in his head tried to calm him, telling him not to be afraid. Harry almost snorted at the thought. He hadn’t been afraid in a long time. A man was arguing with a woman. He crouched down hiding behind the many cables. He knew he would be able to take them on and leave, his magic basically capable of anything, but he was curious and wanted to know who owned a spaceship. He looked up, the glass floor made it possible for him to see them. A woman with red hair was talking with a man wearing a tweet jacket and bowtie. The last person to enter was another man, who closed the doors behind him. The first man jumped around, pressing buttons and was definitely the one in control. He pulled a lever and Harry almost shrieked at being thrown to the floor. The whole ship jerked violently. Taking off, he guessed, wondering where he would end up. 

The Tardis lady told him to follow her directions. He frowned, not knowing what she meant. He became slightly panicky when the woman with red hair started walking down to the area he was hiding. Before he could do anything, a secret latch opened behind him on the wall. He took the opportunity and crawled down, the hidden ladder taking him deeper into the time machine. The latch closed above him and artificial light turned on, he was in some kind of tunnel. He made his way down, Lady Tardis providing insight on the way. He was on his way to the engine room and something called the Eye of Harmony whatever that was. He walked down a corridor, taking the place in. No extension charm was powerful enough to make this much room, he thought, awed that he was inside a small police box.  
Harry stopped when Lady Tardis told him to go through a certain door. He opened it and walked in. His mouth fell open and he gaped at the sight before him. It was a star. A real living star, like the sun, was suspended in the enormous room. He almost didn’t believe his eyes. Holding onto the railing, he simply took in the beauty. Never thinking he would ever be so close to a real star. 

“What is that?” he said out loud. The Lady Tardis explained to him how the star created the energy needed for her to work. He couldn’t even begin to think on how this was built. It was huge. He walked over the drawbridge and entered the door on the other side. Following the Lady Tardis directions, he eventually walked by a kitchen, a swimming pool and a library. He stared, now completely awed. It was the size of a city. Walking on he eventually came to a non-descript door and was told to enter. Inside was a tree made of iron, at least that was what it looked like. It had weird symbols on it. He


	3. 03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the child of death - working title.   
> MoD Harry

Chapter 1: The Deathly Hallows

Eleven-year-old Harry Potter received an anonymous present on Christmas day in his first year at Hogwarts. It was an invisibility cloak. He didn’t know the cloak was supposed to be his all along when he received it or that the one of a kind magical artifact had been in his family for generations. Harry was just happy to get a Christmas present, which was something he had never gotten before. 

Seventeen-year-old Harry disarmed Draco in a skirmish at Malfoy Manor, unknowingly becoming the true master of the Elder Wand. The wand was currently in the hands of Voldemort who had taken it from Dumbledore’s grave.

The final battle was ongoing. Harry was prepared to die to rid the world of Voldemort. He was in the Forbidden Forest. He just found out the truth after seeing Severus Snape’s memories. Harry was a horcrux. He had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside him. That thought alone made him sick to his stomach. His parents’ killer was currently immortal because of him.  
Harry semi-consciously brought out the old snitch he had inherited from Dumbledore after his death. Bringing the golden ball up to his lips, he pressed lightly against it. ‘I open at the close’. Somehow unsurprised by the stone that fell out, landing in the palm of his hand. At that moment, Harry unwittingly became the Master of Death, being the first to ever conquer all three of the Deathly Hallows.  
He talked to the ghostly forms of his dead parents, Sirius and Remus before walking on to his death. Harry dropped the Resurrection Stone, thinking it was better left in the forest than with him. He didn’t see the stone silently disappear before it even hit the ground. 

Harry also didn’t know Death was indeed present and watching over his new Master.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was over. Voldemort was dead. He had defeated him. Harry felt a strange numbness consume him as he was mobbed by everybody. They wanted to touch the Boy Who Lived, to congratulate him, so shake his hand. All Harry wanted was to leave. Neither Hermione, Ginny, Ron nor anyone else around him saw his discomfort though, they were too caught up in their victory. Harry felt like he was suffocating. He needed to get away, to be alone. And then Luna was suddenly in front of him, locking eyes and nodding slowly. He took a deep breath, feeling his legs wobbly moving towards the exit. As soon as Luna exclaimed loudly and got everyone’s attention away from him, he quickly went beneath his trusted cloak, becoming invisible to those around him. He noticed the Malfoys awkwardly sitting together apart from everyone else.  
Harry walked outside, past the destroyed courtyard. He didn’t even glance at the troll lying dead on the ground. He walked further, stopping on the stone viaduct. Looking down, he was surprised to see Dumbledore’s wand in his hand. The Elder Wand, he thought, the reason he even had a chance against Voldemort. He snapped it in half and threw it across the stone battlements. No one should have that power, not even him. He didn’t see the pieces disappear below, just like the stone. Maybe he could find a place to sleep. He felt beyond tired, everything catching up to him. The break in at Gringotts, the final battle. He had been awake for more than twenty-four hours by now. 

He slowly made his way up to Gryffindor tower, still underneath his cloak as people was starting to leave the Great Hall. He saw Ginny moving towards the portrait entrance. He managed to get inside without letting his presence be known. He just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone right now, feeling slightly guilty about hiding from his own girlfriend. She sat down next to Hermione who was sitting on the couch. He thought they needed to get away from the crowd too, probably tired as well. Just as he was about to move towards the stairs leading up to the dormitory, Ron came tumbling down with an angry expression on his face. 

“He isn’t here! Why does he always run away?! Couldn’t he just follow orders for once! Why does he have to be so difficult?” Ron snarled sitting down next to Hermione, and Harry startled surprised. He had never seen him so angry. Surely, they weren’t angry with him? he had just defeated the Dark Lord and practically saved everyone. Wasn’t he allowed to take some time alone?

“And why didn’t he tell us where he went? I’m his girlfriend, surely that counts for something?!” Ginny added in a shrill voice, remining Harry of her mum.

Hermione looked at them, before standing up. “Better not to be overheard,” she said, starting to cast locking and silencing charms on the entrance to the tower. Harry stared slightly disbelieving. What was going on? He was about to take off his cloak and make his presence known to his friends and girlfriend when Ginny started talking again. He stopped, his hand holding the hem of the cloak as Ginny spoke. His blood froze, and he felt himself shatter by each word that came out of her mouth.

“Why couldn’t he just die like he was supposed too?! Dumbledore assured us there was no way he could survive! Now I have no choice but to pretend to be in love with him. Do you have any idea how revolting it is to touch him? to kiss him? It’s disgusting! Just knowing what he is makes me want to throw up!” They had known. They knew he had been a horcrux. They wanted him to die. Harry felt his head hurt, the common room spinning around him dizzyingly as he took in her words. His eyes burned, tears welling up threatening to fall. 

“Don’t worry. Your mom and I came up with a plan,” Hermione explained calmly. “We can still kill him. Make it look like an accident or like someone taking revenge for killing Voldemort. It’s not like we need him anymore. He’s fulfilled the prophecy.” Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His tears spilling over and rolling slowly down his cheeks. His whole life breaking before his eyes. 

“Dumbledore made sure we would get his vault and the Black vault. It’s going to be nice not having to act like his friend anymore. I can’t wait for it all to be over!” Ron joined in. 

“Definitely! It’s so tiring to have to talk to him all the time. He is so depressing and boring. You would almost think he was a small child and not an adult with all the whining he does.” Hermione said with laughter in her voice.   
Harry couldn’t breathe. He silently walked up to one of the dormitories, closing the door quietly behind him. The pain in his chest grew and he leaned against the door. He couldn’t be here. He had to get away. His legs and hands were shaking. His mind was racing, going over everything he had heard, every interaction he had had with his so-called friends. A sob broke from his lips before he crumpled to the floor, his legs giving out beneath him. Was his whole life a lie? Was anything real? Harry didn’t know how long he sat in the shadows of the dormitory, sobbing silently. He got up and angrily wiping his tears away. He needed a place where no one could reach him.

“Kreacher,” he softly called out, hoping the house-elf hadn’t died in battle. A moment later a small pop was heard, and the old house-elf was standing in front of him. He exhaled deeply, not even aware of having been holding his breath. 

“Master called,” Kreacher looked up at him with dismay. Kreacher had never liked him, his disdain only lowered slightly after he helped destroy Regulus’ locket. He could see the elf was displeased having to obey a half-blood.

“shh. Quiet. Can you take me to Grimmauld Place? Quickly please,” Harry whispered. The elf’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Yes, of course master.” He let Kreacher take his hand and felt the familiar feeling as they disapparated, leaving Hogwarts behind. They appeared in the front hall of the decayed town house. Harry quickly cast ‘homenum revelio’ making sure no one else was there. He relaxed seeing it was safe. 

“I don’t want anyone in the house,” He said. “No one can enter without my permission. Lock down the fireplace. Raise the wards, I don’t care if they turn anyone who tries to enter inside out! No one enters!” Harry said viciously, feeling his anger grow as betrayal made his chest ache. Kreacher was looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Even the blood-traitor and his mudblood?” the elf asked obviously trying to get under his skin.

Harry felt his fury rise. “Especially the blood-traitor and his mudblood! His entire family! No one enters!” Harry yelled repeating Kreacher’s own words, uncaring of the derogatory words. How could they? He trusted them! They were his friends and they wanted him dead. Kreacher stared, before snapping his fingers, securing the place. Harry’s yelling had awoken the painting of Walburga, Sirius’ mother, the curtains hiding her from view snapping open. She started to shriek obscenities as soon as she saw him. 

“Shut up, you stupid hag! Or so help me I will tear down this fucking house!” Harry screamed in her face, his magic reacting, almost like accidental magic. It created a storm around him, cracking loudly and making him look dangerous. His bloodstained torn clothes and hair billowing and the smell of ozone heavy in the air. Walburga stopped her rant in surprise, looking wide-eyed as the floor began to creak beneath them. The wallpaper slowly blackened as if burned, scorching the walls. Harry took a deep breath trying to calm down. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. A low wailing noise could be heard throughout the house, steadily rising in volume, humming eerily from nowhere. Harry looked around, he could see his magic engulfing him. It was smothering him. Purple, red, blue, green and black sparks flew around him in a maelstrom of destruction.   
His eyes widened, and he yelped out surprised as he was lifted into the air by an unseen force. His anger evaporated, being replaced with a slow fear. He called out for Kreacher who was clinging to the stair railing. Nothing could be heard over the piercing sound. He was locked in place, hovering in mid-air. Suddenly three items appeared before him. His cloak of invisibility, the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone. He saw Walburga jerk violently in her frame in shock. Before he had time to react the items merged together, fusing into an orb of white light. He just had time to think that this was very bad as the ball of light raced towards him, slamming into his chest. Everything went black and Harry knew no more.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry groaned, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. His body felt like it had been run over by a herd of hippogriffs, a truck and a flock of thestrals at the same time. His mouth and throat were dry and sore. He slowly opened his eyes and reached over for his glasses automatically before stopping. His hand reached up to touch his face. he didn’t have his glasses on, yet he could see the bedroom around him clearly. His eyesight was perfect. He looked around disbelievingly. Then he remembered what had happened and he closed his eyes, exhaling. The Deathly Hallows. They had merged together, and he had somehow absorbed them.   
Typical Potter luck, he thought sarcastically. He felt tears press against his eyes again as his thoughts wandered to his friends. Not friends, he reminded himself, thinking back on the conversation he had overheard. He didn’t have any friends. He didn’t know who he could trust. Harry slowly made it out of bed and walked unsteadily to the bathroom. He went to the sink, turned it on and lowered his head, drinking cold water. He splashed his face twice before rising and looking in the mirror. He couldn’t help scream loudly when he saw his reflection, scrambling back falling to the floor. Kreacher appeared beside him, startled by the sound.

“Master has awoken! Master is alive!” The house-elf wailed. Harry was so shocked by his own appearance that he didn’t even hear Kreacher sob out loud. He scrambled to his feet and quickly walked into Sirius’ old room towards the wardrobe. He tore it open and looked at himself in the full-length mirror. 

Harry stared, not able to believe his eyes. He still looked seventeen, but his body had somehow changed. He slowly undressed, dropping his clothes on the floor. Each piece revealing more unnatural pale skin. The lightning scar that had been on his forehead was gone. All his scars were gone. The basilisk bite from second year, the place where Wormtail had cut him in fourth year, the words ‘I must not tell lies’ on the back on his hand from fifth year, the mark from the horcrux on his chest.   
His skin was unblemished. It had paled drastically and was now an alabaster white, making him look otherworldly. His flawless pale complexion stood in sharp contrast to his unruly jet-black hair that seemed to absorb the light around it. He stood naked, uncaring of Kreacher observing him. He didn’t have any body hair except for a bush of black pubes. His penis was the same size as before, his soft member resting against his now hairless ball sack. He had grown a bit taller. He was still skinny with a lithe build but didn’t look malnourished. His waist had narrowed. His slender legs hairless and longer. He looked feminine. The muscles he had built up from quidditch was almost unnoticeable.   
His features had sharpened giving him higher cheekbones and a slightly androgynous look. His eyebrows had thinned, no longer masculine looking. His eyelids were slightly hooded. Black eyelashes making his eyes stand out. His eyes were slightly bigger, more almond shaped. They had brightened, and now glowed slightly, making him look inhuman. He couldn’t help comparing them to the killing curse, almost the same eerie green. Harry shivered, feeling beyond freaked out. 

“What happened?” he asked, jumping slightly at his own voice. He sounded different. His voice was light and harmonious. Even Kreacher’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Master have been sleeping for five days. Master be changing while unconscious. Master be very powerful, blasting out windows in his sleep,” Kreacher informed him. He looked towards the house-elf.

“Five days. Do you get the paper delivered here? I need to figure out what is happening,” Harry said. “I also need some clothes,” He added, suddenly remembering his own nudity, feeling a light blush across his cheeks as he covered himself with his hands.

“Kreacher be getting the newspaper and some clothes.” The house elf popped out and Harry slowly sat down on Sirius’ bed. 

A few minutes passed before Kreacher returned giving Harry an armload of clothes. He quickly pulled on the underwear and black trousers. He saw the clothes was slightly medieval in look, pulling on the loose v-neck shirt and dark-brown boots.

“Where did you get this?” Harry asked curious. 

“They be old master Regulus clothes,” Kreacher answered.


	4. 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is betrayed -  
> Time-travel

Summer 1999  
Deep below Whitehall, London a stone arch stood tall and imposing. Known as the Veil of Death, the arch itself had always been surrounded by mystery. It had primarily been used as a method of execution after the founding of the Ministry of Magic in seventeen hundred and seven.  
Around forty people dressed in plumb-coloured robes stitched with the stylish silver initial W filled up the benches around the circular room. There were in addition to the surviving Wizengamot members after the war several aurors present. They stood at strategic places around the room in their red auror robes. At the two exits in pairs of two and two, the Unspeakables in their purple cloaks and concealed hoods stood sentry.

The chamber was eerily silent as the prisoner was dragged in. Nineteen-year-old Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man Who Conquered, had seen better days. After almost a year in Azkaban, he was gaunt and gruffy-looking with wild eyes and a face that gave nothing away, yet the contempt for everyone present was easy to see. The dementors hadn’t been kind to him, feeding off his positive memories every day for ten months. Being back in the room where Sirius had died didn’t help him either. 

Harry lifted his head and saw the curious and eager faces around him. It was hard to keep himself from sneering at them. Would he finally get peace? He desired nothing more than to be thrown in the veil at this point and join Sirius, Remus and his parents in the beyond. He had become intimately close with several Unspeakables after the war when they discovered he was the so-called Master of Death. Hermione had not been able to keep her mouth shut and everything had quickly spun out of control from that point on. Arrested and interrogated by aurors and Unspeakables alike. Everyone had turned against him, afraid he was turning into a new dark lord with the deathly hallows.  
Not that anyone found out anything useful. It was just a title. It didn’t even mean anything. Being tortured and exposed to several crazy test by the purple hooded figures had been painful and humiliating. And now that they were certain they couldn’t learn anything, better to get rid of him. He almost snorted. What a joke. This was his reward for ridding Britain of their Dark Lord. He wished he had never gotten an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. It hadn’t been worth it.   
Shoved towards the veil, he accepted that his aunt Petunia had been right. Nothing good had come out from following the freaks. His last thought before entering the stone arch was if he had the choice to redo it all again then he would have made them pay for everything they’d done to him. His world went dark and Harry finally found peace. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Harry woke with a jerk, banging his head against a hard surface. What the hell? Massaging his hurting head, he blindly reached out in the all-consuming darkness and to his astonishment and confusion found some sort of string. Pulling it turned on a light and he discovered to his growing horror that he was in hell.   
The cupboard under the stairs was unchanged. Harry was sitting on his small cot against the back wall. Noticing his height and small build, he almost fainted. He was a child again, looking no older than seven or eight. He stared wide eyed and fascinated down at his small hands, turning them around.


	5. 05

Summer 1994  
Several standing stones stood tall against the morning sky on a deserted hill. The monoliths, seen from above, created a two-tier circle. They had been the fascination and luring mystery for many people through the ages, their purpose never discovered. Yet, a society hidden in plain view, knew what their use were. The hidden society had after all created the stone circle on the crossing ley lines with a single purpose millennium ago. A place for powerful mages to draw on earth’s own magic, it was one of the most powerful ritual sites in the world. The Ministry of Magic had long since banned all use of the place for fear of exposure to muggles, and later as most rituals themselves where deemed too dark and dangerous, the protections and wards where torn down and the place was left for muggles to study.   
On a crisp and airy morning, something unusual happened. In the middle of the standing stones, at the inner most circle, a great white light shone brighter and brighter before expanding outwards. The air crackled with powerful magicks and the smell of ozone was getting heavier. With an almighty crack of lightning the white light swallowed up the entire field and a young man appeared out of nothing in front of the largest stone. Several things happened across the country at that moment.   
At a muggle institute, several monitors started to go crazy, mistaking the unusual activity in Wiltshire as a violent earthquake.   
On a suburban street in Little Whinging, Surrey, a dome of magic appeared around one of the properties before fading away. One of the residents within, a boy with black hair and green eyes, woke from the shining wards outside as they switched allegiance from one person to another.  
Deep below Whitehall, London a glass orb containing a prophecy went dark and inactive.  
In the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a phoenix was startled awake by several loud and screaming artefacts.  
And finally, in Gringotts bank, London branch, a long inactive vault was suddenly active again as the Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Gaunt, the Morrigan, stood determined looking over the fields of Stonehenge, ready to take on the wizarding world in order to protect her heir and unknown descendant.


	6. 06

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MoD harry - time-travel

The battle was over, yet Harry felt numb. He felt empty and he somehow knew it was because of the horcrux. He no longer had a piece of Voldemort’s soul attached to him. He was no longer the reason his parent’s killer was immortal. No longer a horcrux. Yet all he felt was a deep sense of loss and numbness, like ice spreading through his body. He was finally free, no longer bound by prophecy, why did it feel so wrong? Maybe he didn’t know what freedom felt like. He could see Ginny look around as if searching for him. No doubt hoping, they could be together now and build a life. But how could they settle down? He didn’t know what peace was, what love was. He didn’t even know who he himself was. He was no longer the carrier - the protector - of Voldemort’s soul. It felt wrong. His chest ached as if missing a piece of himself.  
His feet dragged him away from the castle almost automatically after Luna had distracted everyone. He somehow found himself where he had dropped the Resurrection Stone. With the Elder Wand in his hand, the Cloak of Invisibility wrapped around him, Harry picked up the stone. The first ever to possess all the Hallows at the same time. Before he could react, the cloak was ripped of him, the wand flew out his hand. The hallows merged together into an orb of shining white light. It hovered in front of him, he was about to cast a shield, run away, do something when the orb raced towards him and slammed into his chest.

A bright light illuminated the forest instantly. Everybody inside the Great Hall shielded their eyes when the enchanted ceiling shone brighter than the sun. There was an unnatural silence. Nothing could be heard. No birds, no wind, no breath. The magical explosion was the biggest anyone had ever experienced. The smell of ozone heavy in the air. Thousand windows shattered instantaneously at Hogwarts and in Hogsmeade. The glass pieces sounded like thunder falling down on the stone floor. Hogwarts and the ground itself shook as if an earthquake took place.   
After the shock had settled, Aurors and those who had fought in the battle moved outside, trying to figure out what had happened. No one would ever find the answer, only a missing savior. Harry Potter was gone, all that was left behind was a broken holly and phoenix feather wand.   
-.-.-.-.-

Harry fell to the ground disoriented. Crazy laughter, shouts and yelling could be heard around him. The rough stone floor scraping his knees. He looked around beyond confused. One moment he had been standing in the Forbidden Forest somehow absorbing the Deathly Hallows, the next transported somewhere else. It had been ten times worse than a portkey. Spells and curses flew overhead, and he felt himself freeze at the sight of Bellatrix hitting Sirius in the chest. As if in slow-motion his godfather fell backwards, disappearing into the Veil. Dead. Again. Was he dreaming? It felt too real to be a dream. The bitch wouldn’t get away this time. A fury like no other consumed him. He had never felt so angry. Not even the first time around. He ran after her before Lupin, alive he noticed, or anyone else could stop him. She laughed and yelled back at him, which only made him want to hurt her more. 

They reached the atrium, Harry was hit with a strong sense of déjà vu. Had he somehow time-travelled back in time? Was he re-living his life? He didn’t think he could fight Voldemort once more. Win the war again. That’s when it hit him. he no longer felt empty. His chest no longer ached. He was whole again. The soul piece was a part of him. He should have noticed before. He was back to being Voldemort’s horcrux. He was younger. Fifteen again, instead of the seventeen he had been. It was surreal.   
He wouldn’t fight for Dumbledore this time. It was a thought that filled him with a conviction like none before. He had never been so sure of anything like it. Dumbledore had raised him to die. To sacrifice himself for the greater good. Left him with his relatives, never checking in. It wouldn’t happen. Harry never wanted to feel that empty feeling again. He had never wanted to fight in the first place. He didn’t want to die. Thinking of Dumbledore was enough for him to be able to cast the torture curse, his hate towards the headmaster was bigger than he first imagined. It had only been hours before he had learned the truth through Severus Snape’s memories, yet everything had already changed. He had been given a second chance and he wouldn’t screw it up. He would do things his way this time around.

“Crucio,” he said, pointing his wand at the crazy witch. She fell to the floor screaming in agony. He kept the curse on her while slowly walking towards the writhing body. It felt good, it felt like revenge. He bounced on his feet as she thrashed in pain on the floor. Her screams were like music. He had honestly never felt so alive. The dark arts were addictive, that much was certain. A voice interrupted him, and he unwillingly let the curse drop.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Voldemort stood in front of him observing, Bellatrix panting on the floor between them. He looked as ghastly and evil as always with the snake-like appearance and crimson eyes, yet Harry’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t help stare. He had killed Voldemort hours ago in the Great Hall and here he was standing in front of him. He sighed, his mind going over what to do. He needed a plan. He needed to do something. Dumbledore would arrive soon, his subconscious reminded him. Images of their last battle in the atrium flashing before his mind. He couldn’t let Voldemort win either. Or could he? He was so confused. As strange as it was, Harry felt a certain kinship with the man. They were alike. He was carrying a piece of his soul.

“I am your horcrux,” he said out loud in Parseltongue, not wanting to risk anyone overhearing their conversation. Not knowing what he was doing. For better or worse throwing himself into new territory. He saw the flash of surprise and the widening of the Dark Lord’s eyes. “I know the full prophecy. Take me with you now and I’ll tell you.” Harry didn’t really have a plan, better to just improvise. He had already switched sides. Not wanting to give up the horcrux inside him was basically enough to go against the Light. 

Voldemort held out his hand while crouching down and taking a hold of Bellatrix who was still lying lifeless on the floor. It was a test, Harry knew. To see if he would really follow. He took the white hand in his own and they disapparated from the Ministry just moments before Dumbledore arrived.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They landed on hardwood floor. Harry looked around and didn’t recognize anything. It could have been Malfoy Manor, but he somehow doubted it. A house-elf popped in as soon as they arrived. 

“Take Bella to Malfoy Manor, inform Narcissa to take care of her,” Voldemort ordered, letting the house-elf disappear with the dark witch. They were alone and definitely not in Malfoy Manor then. 

“You look different,” the statement jerked Harry from his thoughts. Did he? How different? Well, besides being two years younger, he thought somewhat amused. Voldemort was looking him over, red eyes going up and down his body, lingering at his face as if memorizing his features. He suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable.

“Do you want to know the prophecy?” Harry asked, trying to shift the focus onto something else.

“I’m curious. Why the change of heart?” Voldemort said.

“I carry a piece of your soul. I’m your horcrux.” 

“You already said that. But why should that change anything? Shouldn’t you tell the Headmaster instead of me?” Voldemort replied. 

“He already knows,” Harry said. The Dark Lord froze and anger like no other crossed his face. 

“He knows?” Voldemort hissed, going into Parseltongue in his fury.

“Yes, which is why I am here now. I have no wish to die,” Harry told him truthfully.  
“


	7. 07

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk why I wrote this. 
> 
> SUICIDE WARNING

Harry stood underneath his invisibility cloak on the second floor outside Myrtle’s bathroom. He no longer went anywhere without it. He rarely went to lessons anymore. Never eating in the great hall, going to the kitchens instead.  
This school year was turning out to be like his second year, only worse. Ever since his name had come out of that damn goblet on Halloween everyone had turned on him. The entirety of Gryffindor house either saw him as a liar who wanted eternal glory or angry at him for not telling them how he got his name in the goblet in the first place. It didn’t help that Ron, his former friend, was riling them up, turning people against him and just being downright hostile. Hermione had also left him, telling him how disappointed she was and that she couldn’t go between him and Ron. It hurt, knowing the people he trusted most were no longer on his side. The other houses weren’t much better than Gryffindor. Malfoy and the Slytherins took every opportunity to ridicule him, even making those stupid badges. Ravenclaw just followed along and did what everyone else was doing. The Hufflepuffs were angry, blaming him for taking Cedric’s and their time in the spotlight. They could have it, as far as he was concerned. Not that his opinion mattered. He had tried going to both McGonagall and Dumbledore, only to be told to suck it up or that surely it wasn’t that bad. It made his chest clench and angry tears appear in the corner of his eyes. No one had ever stood up for him. No one ever believed him.  
He was being bullied, pushed, jinxed and hexed in the hallways, classrooms and if he showed himself in the Great Hall. The professors didn’t do anything to stop it. Harry had started using his cloak more than ever. The map and wand always nearby, ready to avoid anyone that might come his way. The first task was only a couple of days away. Dragons. He didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with that. Just thinking about it made him want to vomit in anxiety and fear. He hadn’t told anyone, even though he briefly considered telling Cedric, but decided against it after thinking of the nasty hex some of his friends had hit him with.  
He slowly walked inside the bathroom and sighed gratefully when seeing it empty. Going over to the sink, he spoke out loud, ‘open’ trying to visualize a snake in his mind to switch his language to Parseltongue. It worked. The sink slowly rose, revealing the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. He looked down the dark shaft, not particularly happy having to jump down. He hadn’t been down there since saving Ginny in his second year. Surely, Salazar Slytherin wouldn’t lower himself to such standards? Harry couldn’t imagine one of the founders of Hogwarts jumping down a dirty hole. He tried to speak out different combinations of words, managing to get stone steps to appear after several attempts and making a circular staircase.   
He smiled grimly. No one would ever think to look for him down there. It was ironic in a way, he thought, that Slytherin’s Chamber of Secret would become his final resting place. It certainly fitted the requirements for a tomb in Harry’s mind. A room made of stone with creepy decorations and an eerie atmosphere. He walked down a couple of steps before turning and closing the entrance behind him. The sink fell back into place, leaving no trace of his whereabouts behind. Only Voldemort and himself would be able to open it.   
‘Lumos’ Harry said. The tip of his wand illuminated the rest of his decent and walk into the Chamber proper until he stood in front of the decaying basilisk. Maybe he could slay a dragon at fourteen? He had after all slain the basilisk when only twelve. He shook his head, not one of his finest moments that. He still remembered the pain cursing through him when the monster snake bit him. He wasn’t prepared to go against a dragon. He didn’t want any part of the stupid tournament. Harry sat down on the dirty stone floor uncaring of his robes getting soaked by the water.  
Harry took out a small item from his pocket. He had shrunken his trunk down. That would probably cause them to worry when they found out he was missing, he thought. He placed it on the floor. It contained practically everything he owned. His clothes, his school stuff, the various items he had gotten at Christmas over the years, a photo album, his firebolt also shrunken down. Harry placed his cloak and map beside the trunk. Pointing his wand at the items on the floor, he felt numb. He was done. He no longer wanted to be their hero. Their scapegoat. Whatever they wanted him to be. ‘Incendio’. Flames erupted from his wand, setting his trunk on fire. The map beside it shriveled up quickly, parchment turning to ash. The cloak began to glow, before finally catching on fire too. It didn’t burn like normal fabric though and Harry watched as his cloak extinguished itself and simply disappeared. One moment lying on the floor, the next gone. He shrugged, magic was strange sometimes. Harry watched as his belongings burned down to embers, glowing slightly on the wet floor.   
He still held his wand between his fingers, deliberating if he should snap it or not. He slowly sat down again feeling the cold from the stones seep into him. He took off his robes and pulled up the sleeves on his shirt. He didn’t stop before both of his pale arms were bare. Harry pressed the tip of his wand against his left arm slowly slicing it downwards. He didn’t even say an incantation. His magic reacted to his intent. Blood swelled up. It stung but the pain was not bad. It certainly wasn’t as painful as some of the things he had done before. He sat, just observing as the crimson drops fell to the floor, slowly creating a puddle of blood. Taking his wand in the other, now blood coated hand, he pressed the tip against his other arm. Again, no word was uttered. His intent took over and he felt his magic as a crimson line appeared, his arm sliced open. Harry lied down on his back. Letting his wand slip from his fingers, he thought how long it would before someone found his body. Maybe no one never would. He felt like flying, looking up at the dark stone ceiling of the chamber. Floating on a cloud. His breathing was slowing down. It was harder to think clearly. Harry closed his eyes and slowly everything went black.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry Potter’s disappearance wasn’t discovered until two whole days later, when he failed to make an appearance for the first task. Everyone was gathered to see the champions fight against dragons. The loud roars of the beasts drowning the conversations taking place. People were getting impatient, not knowing why the task had been delayed. Bagman informed the judges about Harry’s no show, silently hoping the boy would arrive soon so they could begin.   
Dumbledore was a bit anxious about Harry not showing up, but surely, he would, thinking Harry was to noble and good to go against his word. He had told Harry would have to compete or lose his magic after all. They waited an extra ten minutes, before they could delay no further. Dumbledore had sent professors to search for the missing contestant, but with no luck. Harry would lose his magic and Dumbledore was slowly freaking out. Bartemius Crouch was pressing on, wanting the task to begin. The champions battled their dragons and retrieved their golden eggs, except Harry Potter. Students were talking, gossiping and wondering where he was.  
It wasn’t until after the task that McGonagall thought to search his dormitory. She had a sinking feeling when she noticed his trunk missing. She informed Dumbledore and the house-elves along with every professor searched the castle. The students had caught on, and everyone was talking about Potter running away.  
Dumbledore had no choice but to inform the Aurors who started to look for the missing student. He called together the Order, not knowing Moody was Barty Crouch Junior in disguise, who learned the identity of every member of their little vigilante group. After playing his part, he went to his master, Lord Voldemort and informed him of the missing boy and what he had learned about Dumbledore’s Order. The Dark Lord decided if he couldn’t have the boy’s blood to resurrect him, anyone would do. Barty kidnapped Arthur Weasley on his way to work one morning and brought him to Little Hangleton graveyard. The ritual was performed, and the Dark Lord rose once again, more terrifying than ever.   
No one quite knew what had happened before it was too late. The order members were killed one by one. Azkaban prisoners disappeared along with the dementors. The Ministry fell. Dumbledore was killed. Voldemort had won. He did however still wonder where his once enemy Harry Potter had disappeared too. He performed a summoning ritual at Malfoy Manor. He wanted to summon Potter and take the child unaware. It didn’t work. Harry Potter was gone, and Voldemort wouldn’t find his remains for another hundred years. He had an Empire to rule after all.


	8. 08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU idea

In a world, not quite like the one we know, a boy was born in the middle of June 1980. His name was Eliath Arcturus Lestrange. A beautiful boy, who would undoubtably grow into the distinguished Black look he had inherited from his mother Bellatrix.  
He displayed magic from an early age. After his eyes had turned into the metallic grey like his father Rodolphus, both the black curly hair on the top of his head and the newly settled eye colour started to rapidly change several times a day, cycling through a wide variety of colours. Eliath was a metamorphmagus, a dormant skill from his maternal family which hadn’t been seen in centuries. No one mentioned the daughter of the estranged Black sister who had been disowned from the family, marrying beneath her status. They didn’t count her as part of the family after all. His parents proudly showed him off to family members and friends alike. Arcturus, hid godfather and Head of House Black even made him the heir to the family. Times were a changing.  
Bellatrix and Rodolphus, undoubtably proud of their son, had a war to win. As part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle, they were crucial in the plans for the dark side to take over and reform the wizarding and muggle world alike to their image. It just so happened that victory was close at hand, more specifically in the hands of the Potters.  
The war was won on Samhain, All Hallow’s Eve, a year later in 1981. The death of all three Potters marked the end of the war. Before the year turned, the Light had surrendered, and Darkness prevailed. Albus Dumbledore was publicly executed on the steps of Hogwarts. The Ministry of Magic was demolished, and a new system took its place with the Emperor, Voldemort himself, as the supreme ruler of Magical Britain. In the following years, life in Europe changed drastically. Powerful ancient wards where raised around the British Isles, blocking all unauthorized travel. Muggles where forced out or killed in millions, no longer allowed to live in what was now called Avalon. They never saw the hidden threat of magic coming. The Emperor saw fit to expand his realm and declared war on France.  
Witches and wizards from all over the world immigrated to this new land of wonder. The perk of not having to hide stronger than anyone imagined. Purebloods and all magical families standing stronger together than ever. The International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy fell shortly after and the Third World War began, muggles going against the magicals. It was an overwhelming victory for magic. The muggles were forced to hide underground or in the many destroyed cities, now nothing more than ruins. Reminders of a forgotten history. It didn’t take long for the many magicals to raise magnificent cities, unlike anything the world had ever seen. Floating manors and castles. Everyone more opulent than the next. Dragons now roamed free, flying in the open skies, to the astonishment of every muggle who managed not to draw attention. Better to blend in with the crowd. Muggle slums, where millions of the surviving muggles lived, resembled shacks in the middle ages. Muggle-hunting had become a popular pastime among the Noble Houses, and occasionally, a crowd of wizards would take a few muggles, set them free in an unpopulated area and hunt them down for fun, before killing them.  
Avalon, which was previously known as Great Britain, had changed. The Citadel stood tall in the Capitol, a rising city, built on the remains of an unknown muggle town. The society as a whole had changed. Witches and wizards no longer differentiated between light and dark. Magic was seen as magic. The dangerous and downright malicious magic which were previously banned, no longer had any restrictions. The magicals no longer classified each other as purebloods, half-bloods and mudbloods. There was no reason to with no muggles around. Instead, the wealthy pureblood families became pillars in society, the top tier known as the nobles, Lords and Ladies, looking down on the rest from above. Half-bloods and those without funds where quickly subdued in the early days of the war. Forced into servitude, they made up the working class. Mudbloods never made it far, seen on par with a house-elf. They where often forced to sell themselves or be bound into slavery to even survive the harsh reality of the new Empire.


	9. 09

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slytherin Harry

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Growing Up  
Four-year-old Freak was forced to make the meals for his relatives. His aunt told him he would have to earn his keep. He always made sure to wake up early in his room, the cupboard under the stairs, so he could start breakfast and avoid being hit by his uncle who usually punished him if he did something wrong or was to slow. He wished his relatives would stop hurting him.

Five-year-old Freak was pushed down the stairs by his uncle as he came out of the bathroom. He was apparently not allowed to use hot water anymore. No one did anything about his strained arm after being shoved down the wooden stairs. He was locked in his cupboard for complaining to loudly about the pain. He wished someone would come and take him away.

Six-year-old Freak learned his real name was Harry Potter on the first day of primary school. He was laughed at by the other children for introducing himself as Freak and not knowing his own name. His cousin, Dudley bullied him and made sure no one wanted to talk to him. Harry didn’t have any friends. He sat looking over at the other children while thinking hatefully that he wouldn’t want to befriend them anyway. His scar started to burn slightly.

Seven-year-old Harry was getting a haircut in the kitchen. His aunt was cutting off large locks of his black unruly hair. He went to the bathroom and looked himself in the mirror. He was almost completely bald. Harry didn’t like it at all.  
The day after his hair had mysteriously grown out again, longer than before. It made his aunt angry. She began to shriek at him for being unnatural. His uncle decided to punish him for showing his freakiness. Vernon used corporal punishment to keep the unruly boy in control. Pushing his nephew’s pants down, he took the boy across his lap and spanked him. Harry was sent to his cupboard afterwards by his aunt without dinner. He sat on his cot feeling his butt burn slightly, thinking it was unfair that he was punished for something he couldn’t even control.

Eight-year-old Harry was being chased by Dudley and his gang of friends. They liked to beat him up, thinking it was great fun. They called their game ‘Harry hunting’. Harry didn’t like it much, which was why he was running away from the five boys. He ran into the alley behind the school thinking he could hide behind the dumpsters. They saw him however, and he knew it was too late. He would be beaten and kicked again. He suddenly felt like being squished through a straw. He couldn’t breathe, and everything went black. It was over as quickly as it began. He opened his eyes and saw he had somehow been transported onto the school roof. The boys were looking around confused below, not knowing where he was.  
Harry had trouble getting back down from the roof, and it ended with his teacher calling his uncle at work afterwards. He was immediately punished when they arrived back home. His uncle used a belt, spanking his arse in the kitchen while his cousin watched. 

Nine-year-old Harry was certain it was magic. He came to his conclusion after accidentally levitating several objects with his mind. He could make things fly, set things on fire and teleport to places he had been before. Harry practiced his abilities in secret and slowly gained control over them. He kept his powers to himself, not wanting anyone to know.  
He had also started to spend more time away from number four, Privet Drive. His aunt and uncle didn’t care where he went, as long as he did his usual chores. Harry would sit in the park and observe people going by or read books in the local library. He never took any books home with him, knowing his relatives would punish him for it. He didn’t need to add any additional reasons for his uncle to hit him as that happened frequently already.

Ten-year-old Harry hated his relatives. His scar burned as his hate grew. He lived with his cousin, uncle and aunt because he was an orphan. He had been told by his aunt Petunia that his mum and dad had died when he was a baby after finally working up the courage to ask her about them. It was how he had gotten his scar. Aunt Petunia told him not to ask more questions about them, threatening with locking him in his cupboard without food again. Harry sometimes secretly wished his uncle and aunt would die in a car crash like his parents.   
Harry clasped his hands to his forehead as he felt a sharp pain. He was unknowingly absorbing the Dark Lord Voldemort’s unintentional seventh horcrux, becoming one with the soul piece. The years of abuse, starvation and his growing hate made it possible for the unknown horcrux to merge together with its host fully. Harry could feel his eyes and head burn as if someone had stabbed him behind his eyeballs. Tears streamed down his face as he sat, rocking back and forth, trying to be silent. A dome of magic appeared around number four, Privet Drive as the wards fell, cracking loudly in the air. The protection giving to Harry by his mother’s sacrifice overridden and destroyed by the soul piece merging with his own. His lightning formed scar slowly disappeared, sinking into his skin and leaving no trace behind. The pain slowly receded. He was amazed when he opened his eyes again. He could see everything clearly. It was like a pressure, that had always been present, had finally been removed. Harry traced his finger across his forehead, feeling his now flawless skin scar-free. He didn’t notice his eyes flashing crimson.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dudley’s Birthday

 

A New World

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry walked into King’s Cross Station after his uncle had dropped him off. He went towards the platforms Professor Snape had described to him. Looking around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Harry felt stupid as he was about to walk into a solid wall between platform nine and ten. He closed his eyes and walking at a quicker pace, prepared for the worst. He was a bit surprised when he opened his eyes and saw the Hogwarts Express in front of him. He had done it! He was on platform nine and three quarters. It was a bit early, the train not leaving for another 45 minutes. Harry chose an empty compartment and sat down, looking at the people arriving on the platform. Time passed, and he saw more and more people arrive. Parents ready to send off their children. Just as the train was about to leave, a large red headed family arrived.  
The train finally began to move, slowly picking up speed going through London. The door to his compartment was suddenly banged open and Harry saw one of the red heads, a boy, from moments ago. 

“ehm, mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” the lanky boy asked. 

“No, not at all.” Harry responded, waving at the seats opposite him. The red head quickly pulled his trunk inside and sat down. Harry was happy about not having to drag around his trunk like that, seeing the trouble the other boy had with getting his in place. “I’m Ron Weasley by the way.” The boy introduced himself. 

“Harry Potter.” The newly named Ron stared, and Harry thought the slack-jawed reaction of wonder was going to get tiring fast if that was how everyone was going to react hearing his name. Was all wizards and witches stupid? 

“No, you’re not.” Ron suddenly exclaimed looking at his forehead. “Everyone knows Harry Potter has a lightning bolt scar!” Harry blinked. 

“It mysteriously disappeared last year. I am really Harry Potter and always have been.” Harry tried, not really understanding what the problem was.

“Okay then, prove it!” the red head demanded. 

“How? I don’t exactly have a passport with me.” Harry replied drily. 

“What?” Ron looked confused, like he didn’t know what he was talking about. “Tell me about You-Know-Who then! Do you remember anything from that night? I don’t really believe you’re Harry Potter without the scar! Everyone knows how he looks like and you look like a girl!” he continued in a scornful voice. 

Harry stared unbelievingly. Reaching a decision, he stood, “Well, then I better leave. There won’t be enough room when the real Harry Potter shows up. I’m sure he wants to sit with you.” He definitely didn’t want to stay with this boy, already fed up with his rude behavior and thinking there had to be more intelligent life on board the train.

“I knew you were lying! And when the real Harry Potter shows up, I’m going to be his best friend!” Weasley told him looking wistful. Harry shook his head incredulously “good luck with that,” stepping out of the compartment and closing the door, thinking he would stay as far away as possible from that boy in case his stupidity was contagious.

Harry looked around exasperated and compartmentless. He started walking down, thinking there had to be somewhere he could sit. He looked in through the doors of the many compartments he passed, all of them full of older students. He saw a girl with buck teeth and frizzy hair and a chubby boy looking lost, walk towards him. 

“Excuse me, have you seen a toad? Neville’s lost his.” The girl asked in a brisk voice.

Harry smiled amused, thinking that would only happen on the way to a magical school. “No, I haven’t. Sorry.” He continued after passing the pair, who resumed their search of the lost pet. 

He almost walked into a dark-skinned boy with black hair and who already wore robes, as he came out of the bathroom. “Ah, sorry,” the boy smiled wide. 

“No problem,” Harry answered walking side by side with the boy, down the train corridor. 

“I’m Blaise Zabini,” the boy greeted Harry. “Are you a first year as well?” 

“Yep, Harry Potter, nice to meet you.” Harry was pleasantly surprised by the lack of reaction.   
“Really? What are you walking out here for?” Blaise asked in a curious voice. 

“well, I left my compartment after this rude boy showed up, thinking there had to be a better place to sit.” Harry explained a bit lamely, silently thinking he should just have thrown the red head out of his compartment, he had been there first after all. 

“You can come sit in our compartment then. We are a bunch who already know each other, but I’m sure you would be welcomed. And I saw Draco and his bodyguards leave moments ago, so there’s definitely room!” Blaise tried to convince him. 

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to take your friend’s seat.” Harry said, not wanting to cause trouble. 

“Come on! It would be amusing actually, because I’m pretty sure he left to find you! He really wanted to befriend the Boy Who Lived.” Blaise grinned “Imagine him coming back all angry for not being able to find you, and then telling him you’ve been with us the whole time.” 

Harry smiled, “Like a prank?”

“sure. Draco can be a bit stuck up sometimes. He definitely needs to be pranked more often.” Blaise told him. “Here we are!” The dark-skinned boy opened a compartment door and Harry saw a brown-haired boy and a hard-faced girl sitting inside. “Hi, look who I found. Pansy, Theo, meet Harry Potter. Harry meet Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott.” Blaise introduced them. 

Pansy snorted, looking amused “Draco is going to be so mad.” 

Theo on the other hand looked surprised “Are you sure you want to sit with us, Potter?” Harry was confused, “Why wouldn’t I want to sit with you?” 

“We are all hoping to be Slytherins,” Theo pressed on. Harry was still confused, “Why would that matter to me exactly?”

“Wait, how much do you know of Hogwarts? Of our world?” Pansy asked finding his answers strange. 

“Well, only what Professor Snape told me and what I’ve managed to read about this last month,” Harry replied a bit embarrassed. They all stared at him. 

“What?” Blaise said in a low voice. “How? What? Didn’t you grow up in our world?”

“No, I grew up living with my muggle relatives. I didn’t know I was a wizard before getting my letter.” Harry explained, feeling a bit stupid. They were all staring at him in surprise. 

“Harry Potter not knowing about magic! The Boy Who Lived growing up with Muggles!” Pansy screeched in outrage making the boys flinch. “I don’t believe it! Everyone thinks you’ve been living in our world learning magic this whole time!” 

“Actually, no one knows where he’s been. My father thinks only Dumbledore had that knowledge.” Theo corrected. 

“According to the Harry Potter Adventure book series, you’ve been out defeating dragons and chimaeras.” Blaise piped in amused. Harry felt a bit overwhelmed. “You also look very differently than what we all expected.” Blaise continued looking him up and down.

“I know that,” Harry answered. “The red headed boy, Weasley, didn’t believe I was Harry Potter and started accusing me because I no longer had my scar!” Pansy giggled, and the boys smirked. 

“Weasleys are blood-traitors. They find muggles more important than our kind. Draco and his family have had a long-standing feud with the Weasleys.” Theo told him. 

The door to the compartment opened and a pale boy with blond hair entered. He looked indignantly at Harry who was sitting in his seat, and then over at Blaise who smiled. 

Harry decided to introduce himself before the blond who had to be Draco could get angry at his friend. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Harry Potter.” Draco did a double take, opening his mouth about to say something before closing it. “Draco Malfoy, A pleasure. Are you really Harry Potter?” He asked, looking at the pale boy sitting in his seat. 

“Sure am.” Harry scooted over making room for the blond who sat down. “Vincent and Gregory left me to search for the trolley. They wanted candy.” Draco explained to his friends. 

“Harry was just telling us about his run in with one of the Weasleys.” Pansy told the newly arrived boy who immediately perked up. “How did that go?” He asked curiously.

“Not well. He was rude and stupid.” Harry said, explaining what had happened one more time. Draco smiled, looking satisfied “Weasleys are poor, they are the lowest wizarding family you could meet. It’s a good thing you left. I can’t believe Blaise found you before I did.” They laughed and talked, slowly getting to know each other more, his newly made friends explaining a few things about pureblood society and the wizarding world in general to Harry who soaked every piece of information up.   
The train had left London and rural landscapes, fields and small towns where now running past the window. At some point Harry went to the bathroom to change into his wizarding attire and school robes seeing everyone else in the compartment had already done so before he had arrived. He returned and smiled seeing them make room for him. They talked about quidditch, the school, their families, were Harry listened in but didn’t contribute much as he would rather forget the Dursleys than talk about them. They taught him how to play Exploding Snap, and he got to try different candies when the trolley came around. Blaise asked which House he hoped to be in and Harry answered that he hadn’t really thought about it. That started a longer discussion about all four houses, ending with Harry telling Draco that he might just be sorted into Slytherin. Time passed, and they eventually made it to the End Station.   
Harry walked with them outside. Hearing someone call out for first years, he saw the biggest man he had ever seen. Surely, he had to have giants’ blood, Harry mused. They followed the self-proclaimed groundskeeper and eventually made it over a hill, walking along a narrow path in the dark. He heard Draco gasp softly and looking up he saw Hogwarts for the first time. The castle was illuminated by what looked like a thousand tiny lights, its many towers reaching the dark sky above. It was a magnificent sight which only became better as they moved down and took boats across the lake, looking up at the imposing building. Harry sat with Theo, Pansy and Blaise. Draco had gone with the large boys, Vincent and Gregory.   
Reaching the other side of the lake, Harry saw the boy from earlier get his toad back. They followed the groundskeeper up a flight of stairs and was handed over to one of the professors who looked like a true witch. Harry thought she looked a bit intimidating. They entered the Castle proper, and Harry felt like he had finally found where he was supposed to be, where he truly belonged.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

The Sorting  
Harry looked around, taking in every detail of his new surroundings. He walked together with the group of new students following Professor McGonagall leading them further inside the castle. He looked over at Draco who was walking beside him. His new friend was looking around with large eyes like himself, even though the blond was trying to hide it. Draco noticed him stare and couldn’t help the grin that threatened to split his face. He grinned back happily.   
They reached their destination and was told to wait. The Professor told them about the four houses. Telling them to tidy up, looking Weasley and the boy who had lost his toad, Neville, up and down. She left them standing alone, leaving through a side-door. Harry turned around and observed his new classmates. Most of them looked nervous. The girl with frizzy hair was whispering spells over and over. Harry heard Weasley say something about wrestling a troll which Harry thought unlikely, wondering silently if the red headed boy had been dropped on the ground as a baby.

Harry was standing with Draco and the blond boy’s group of friends. He could see a clear division as most of the first years had already formed groups with either friends or new acquaintances. Blaise noticed him looking and whispered to him while pointing to one of the largest groups near the opposite wall. “Those are all half-bloods, most of their families are neutral or light oriented.” Blaise continued, pointing out a smaller group beside their own. “Those are pureblood. Families who’s all traditionally sorted into Ravenclaw.” Moving on, he pointed out all the groups he knew ending with the largest one. The children looking most nervous or standing alone. “Those are all mudbloods or blood-traitors. They usually end up scattered across every house except Slytherin.” Harry nodded. He guessed mudblood was another word for the muggleborns, and he already knew they tended to end up in all houses except Slytherin from the books he had read about the school.   
“We are all purebloods and a few half-bloods.” Blaise explained about their own little group. “Whose families have traditionally been sorted into Slytherin. Except you of course. But I guess you could be sorted into Slytherin, even though most Potters have been Gryffindors. Had you grown up in the magical world, then you would probably be standing with them.” Blaise pointed to the first group he had explained about. Harry thought about it. It made sense. He didn’t know which house he would be sorted into though, feeling that just because his parents had been Gryffindors didn’t mean he had to be.   
Some of the girls screamed, and Harry jumped in surprise making Blaise snigger softly. Harry glared at him even though he couldn’t help smiling. He saw a group of ghosts floating in the air. “Oh, new students!” One of the ghosts exclaimed looking delighted. Harry wanted to know how ghosts were possible and if they had ever been real living people as he observed the translucent spirits talk with some of the students in front of him, urging them to be sorted into Hufflepuff. Professor McGonagall came back and told them to follow.

They walked into the Great Hall in pairs of two, trying to make a somewhat straight line. Harry walked beside Blaise with Crabbe and Goyle in front of them. Draco was right behind them. He looked up at the enchanted ceiling, wanting to see it after reading so much about it. The long tables were filled with older students who were all staring curiously at them. He could hear some of them whisper his name, obviously not finding him among the new students as he didn’t look like they imagined. It made Harry smirk slightly, knowing he wouldn’t have liked it if everyone here had recognized him by appearance only. He could see Blaise smirk too, obviously finding it funny as well.  
They reached the other end of the hall and he finally got to see the staff table for the first time. He recognized Dumbledore, who was sitting in a golden chair looking regal and important. Further down the table was Professor Snape, who nodded at him in greeting when noticing him staring. He didn’t know any of the other professors.  
He noticed the hat for the first time just as it began to sing. Harry’s mind was reeling. A singing hat! It just confirmed his theory that most magicals were insane. He tried to listen to the song, but it was hard, seeing as it was a piece of cloth singing. He thought either Hufflepuff and Slytherin sounded like they fitted him best. At least according to the singing piece of fabric’s song. He shook his head slightly incredulous.  
Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause – “HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw one of the ghosts from earlier waving merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan!” and on and on it went. Terry Boot was sorted into Ravenclaw, Lavender Brown into Gryffindor. The first to be sorted into Slytherin was Millicent Bulstrode. Harry stood waiting to be sorted. Draco was sorted into Slytherin quickly, the hat barely touched his blond hair. 

“Potter, Harry!” McGonagall called out. Whispers immediately started breaking out around him. The noise level in the hall increasing as he stepped forwards. He heard several gasps and shouts of surprise. Even some of the teachers looked shocked. Did they really all think they knew him even though they had never seen him before? A bit annoyed, he walked up the few steps in front of him, intent on getting his sorting done so he could step back in the shadows. He didn’t like being the center of attention at all. He could hear some of the things people were whispering.

“She said Potter!”

“The Harry Potter?”

“Look at him! He looks so different than I imagined.”

“Where is his scar?”

The last thing Harry saw before the hat was placed on his head was students craning their necks to get a better look at him. The hat was large enough to cover his eyes. He waited.

“hmm.” A small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of hidden talents, I see.” Harry’s eyes widened, surprised and wanting to keep the magic he already knew a secret. “Not to worry. I cannot divulge them. Your secrets are safe with me. Ahh. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, A my goodness, yes. And a certain amount of ambition, now that’s interesting… So where shall I put you?”  
Harry thought about it, and he didn’t really have a preference. He guessed it would be nice to be with friends, thinking of Blaise and Draco. Decided, he thought out loud in his mind ‘I would like to be in Slytherin, hat.’  
“Ah, very well. It is one of the houses I initially would have placed you in myself. Slytherin can lead you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that – ah, you are sure, I see – then better be SLYTHERIN!”

Harry could hear the hat shout the last word out to the whole hall. He waited, eventually reaching up and pulling the hat off as it wasn’t lifted by McGonagall, like she had done with the previous first years. He looked out and saw surprised, shocked, jaw-slacked and angry faces looking up at him. He looked over at McGonagall and saw her stare at him with wide eyes. The hall was silent as a grave. No one clapped, at least not until Draco started applauding wildly, whooping out from his seat on the bench at the Slytherin table.   
Harry lifted an eyebrow, making her cough as she quickly took the hat from him. “Better go to your new house, Mr. Potter.” Harry nodded once and walked confidently and coolly over to the table furthest away as his tie and robes changed to green and silver. There was a smattering of applause from his new house, everyone looking at him curiously, very surprised by his sorting. No one, except Snape and the people he sat with on the train, thought he would be in Slytherin. Most had no doubt expected him in Gryffindor, he thought scornfully. The other tables had started whispering, sounding like angry clusters of bees.   
Harry sat down beside Draco smirking. “Told you so.” He said, making the blond boy stick his tongue out in defense. McGonagall had finally pulled herself together and continued the sorting even though most people where still whispering, talking about him being sorted into Slytherin. He looked across the staff table and saw multiple professors talking together in hushed voices. Dumbledore, Snape and a man with a purple turban were all looking at him. He ignored them all, concentrating on the sorting. Weasley was next. 

“Oh, Have Mercy on us. The hat should just say no.” Harry whispered, making Draco and the students around him who heard laugh. Weasley was thankfully sorted into Gryffindor. The last one to be sorted was Blaise. He was eventually sorted into Slytherin, taking a seat across from Harry. 

“Took you long enough.” Harry greeted him grinning. 

“Not as long as you! You were almost a hat stall.” Blaise retorted. 

“What can I say, I have an amazing personality.” 

Draco snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can survive your dry humor for another seven years.” The blond joined in unnecessarily. they ate dinner and Harry was introduced to the other first years. Dumbledore stood up and gave his start-of-term notices, a warning about the Forbidden Forest and the third-floor corridor. They were then forced to sing the most horrendous song Harry had ever heard. He didn’t even bother, just looking on as the other tables made loud noises. It sounded to Harry, as if they were torturing animals.

“First years, with me!” An older female student called out to them when the song finally ended.

They were marched down several stairs, going into the dungeons. The prefects introduced themselves on the way, explaining different things about the castle. They finally stopped in front of a bare wall. 

“This is the entrance to our common room, your new home here at Hogwarts. Do not take strangers from other houses with you into Slytherin territory! Do not give the password out to other students! You will get points taken and detention if we find out you have broken the rules! This is your safe-place from the rest of the school. What happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin!” the male prefect, who Harry didn’t catch the name of, explained. “The password changes every fortnight. Check the noticeboard regularly! The current password is…” he looked over at the female prefect, Gemma Farley, with a lost expression. She rolled her eyes and simply stated “Ashwinder.”

The wall suddenly opened up, creating a passage large enough for three of them to pass side by side at once. Going into the Slytherin common room, Harry saw a large circular room lavishly decorated with leather armchairs and couches, dark wooden tables and chairs. The room was tinted in a green light by large glass lamps hanging from the ceiling. He saw windows on both ceiling and walls looking out into the lake, swarms of fish swimming by. 

“Please, take a seat. Sit down. We have a few rules we’d like to go over. First, you should know the other three houses doesn’t like Slytherins very much.” Gemma Farley started.

Some of the older students sitting behind them hissed, one of them yelling out “Hex them back!” 

The female prefect ignored them, “We are often looked down upon or thought of as a lesser house. This is of course not true, as you all should know by now, we are if anything better than them!”

“That’s right! We’ve won the House Cup six years in a row!” the same older student from before called out behind them. 

“Thank you for your contribution Flint! You are welcome to take over. As I was saying, their hate does create the necessity for us to stand united. Therefore, the first rule, Slytherin stands together! When you are out there, it is important that you are seen to be one house, one united front. I don’t care if you hate the person next to you. You will stand together! Any scores, duels or arguments are to be done here in the common room where only Slytherin is witness. As we told you before, the Slytherin common room is your safe-place. This is where you are free from the other houses. You’ll have a hard time here in this school if you don’t follow this rule.” She finished, giving the word to her fellow prefect.

“Next rule, you are to be inside the common room by nine when curfew starts, and the Professors expect you to be in your beds by ten.” The male prefect stated, continuing “Third rule is don’t use magic on each other in the hallways. I’m going to change that a bit, don’t get caught using magic on others in the hallways. Always have an alibi or backup.” Farley punched him on the shoulders, making some of the first-years laugh. “Now, I don’t think I have more to say,” He looked at Farley who shook her head. “We are going to give the word to our very own Head of House and Potion Master, Professor Snape.” The prefects left, joining their friends in the back.

A shadow stepped out from the corner making some of the girls squeal out in fright. Professor Snape entered the room fully, silently moving over the stone floor. Harry saw he looked the same as when he had visited him on Privet Drive. 

“I expect you to do your best, obey the rules and if you happen to break them, don’t get caught! You should also stay away from the third-floor corridor. If I find out any of you have been there, you will be punished.” repeating the Headmaster’s words while looking at Harry, who raised an eyebrow wondering what that was about. “You will find your names on the dormitory doors, separated by years. Boys are to the right, Girls to the left. Don’t mingle. That goes for all of you!” He stated, looking over at some of the older boys, who grinned. “I think you’ve had quite enough information for one night and it’s getting late, so off to bed. I’ll handle out timetables tomorrow at breakfast.” Professor Snape turned and walked out the Slytherin dungeon, his robes billowing behind him. Harry couldn’t help thinking it looked cool.

Harry followed Draco hoping he would share a room with him. They stopped outside one of the many doors in the corridor housing all male Slytherin students and Harry found his last name next to all the other Slytherin first years. Walking in he saw a large room with six four-poster beds, green and silver hangings standing along the walls. Three beds on each side. He chose one of the middle beds standing next to one of the lake-windows. Draco took the bed to his left and Vincent took the one to his right. On the opposite side Blaise, Theo and Gregory all picked their own beds too.

They were all tired after a long day, deciding to follow Snape’s order and go to bed. Harry stripped down to his briefs, deciding to sleep in his underwear when he saw his new roommates do the same. Crawling underneath the covers, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.   
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

First Lessons


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry summoned to AU, forward in time?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, October 31st, 1994  
Fourteen-year-old Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table with his friends, waiting for Dumbledore to announce the three champions in the Triwizard Tournament which were going to take place at Hogwarts this school year. He had been excited about the other schools finally arriving earlier that day. Harry was however also slightly wary as it was Halloween and he just knew something was going to happen before the night was over, just like his previous years in Hogwarts.  
In his first year, Voldemort had sat a troll lose as a diversion while trying to steal the Philosopher’s Stone. The troll had nearly killed Hermione and injured him as he tried to stop it. Ron had thankfully saved them with a quick ‘Wingardium Leviosa’.   
In his second year, the basilisk was released by a possessed Ginny. Filch’s cat was almost killed and he had been blamed initially. It didn’t get much better when several students were petrified, and he was outed as a parselmouth. Most of the school saw him as a rising dark lord then. Harry definitely thought of his second year as his worst one yet.   
In his third year, mass murderer and later discovered godfather Sirius Black had attacked the Fat Lady’s portrait trying to gain access to the Gryffindor dormitories. His actions had created fear throughout all four houses. Harry still shuddered at the memory of the dementors guarding the castle.  
His parents had also been murdered on All Hallows’ Eve thirteen years ago. Yes, Harry thought decisively, something bad always happened on the 31st of October. Looking around, he saw everyone had almost finished dinner when the food vanished, and their plates returned to their spotless state. The noise level rose expectantly only to die down as Dumbledore rose from his seat. The foreign headmaster and headmistress looked tense and expectant, just like everyone else. 

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” said Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” - he indicated the door behind the staff table - “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

Harry saw Dumbledore take out his wand. The headmaster swiped it in a wide arch extinguishing all the candles around the room casting the hall into darkness. The Goblet was now the brightest thing, shining with sharp blue flames. The whole room gasped as the flames turned red and spat out a piece of parchment which Dumbledore nimbly caught. 

“The Champion for Durmstrang,” he called out in a strong voice “will be Victor Krum.”

Harry saw Krum rise from the Slytherin table and walk towards the side-door as a loud applause swept through the hall. The noise fell as the goblet once again turned red and gave another piece of parchment caught by Dumbledore. 

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” said Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour.”

The girl, Delacour, rose and walked gracefully past the staff table. Harry noticed some of the Beauxbatons girls crying when Hermione pointed out their disappointment. Everyone’s attention was quickly diverted to the goblet again however, as it was time to pick the Hogwarts Champion. Harry could almost feel the palpable tension in the room. Almost every Hogwarts student were holding their breath collectively as the third piece of parchment fell out the goblet.

“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore called, “is Cedric Diggory!”

Pandemonium was the word Harry would use to describe the Great Hall. He heard Ron shout in denial, but everyone else were jumping, shouting, applauding or screaming as Cedric made his way towards the staff table. Harry didn’t think he had ever seen the Hufflepuff table create so much noise before. It was some time before Dumbledore could be heard again. 

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily as the tumult died down. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —”   
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air and another, fourth piece of parchment was ejected.   
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and knew what Dumbledore was going to say before calling out - “Harry Potter.”

The hall was silent. No one made a sound. A few students stood up to look at him as he sat at the Gryffindor table. He felt slightly incredulous and very numb. He hadn’t put his name in, surely, they would believe that. Looking at everyone sitting at the Gryffindor table, he wasn’t so sure. He stood up and moved towards Dumbledore who was talking together with McGonagall in hushed voices. He felt everyone look at him. Angry stares followed from the people he passed walking hurriedly up to the staff table. Dumbledore turned towards him when he noticed his approach. “Harry”– 

He was cut off however, and before the Headmaster could say anything else Harry felt himself rose into the air, levitating by an unseen force. Dumbledore, the Ministry personnel and the professors in front of him shouted out in alarm and surprise. People watched as Harry lit up, blue and white light ingulfing him. he yelped out, blinded by the light. Dumbledore was about to cast something, his wand pointing towards him. It was too late. Harry disappeared in seconds, a bright white light making everybody shield their eyes. The light disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Dumbledore stared incredulously at the scorched summoning circle left behind on the ground, where Harry had been only moments ago. Everyone was talking, sounding like a cluster of angry bees.  
Harry Potter had been kidnapped. He was gone, taken away and unknowingly unable to ever return. He had been ripped from his own world and thrown through time to a different reality altogether.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Citadel, Capitol City formerly known as London, Spring 1999  
Harry faceplanted painfully on an unfamiliar marble stone floor as the world around him finally stopped spinning, disoriented and feeling like he had been on a ten-minute portkey ride. He slowly raised his head only to moan out in despair and lie back down, quickly closing his eyes thinking he was about to throw up.  
He heard people around him whisper in aggravated tones, but he was too dazed to see what had happened or where he was. Strong hands grabbed him and hoisted him up to his feet. He squinted his eyes open and saw two men holding him. They wore robes and was wearing silver masks. He turned his head slightly and opened his eyes fully in surprise when seeing the throne in front of him. The man sitting regal staring down at him had white skin, no hair and red crimson eyes. Harry gulped as he recognized Voldemort, wondering what was going on and how he could be back. He didn’t think he was in Scotland anymore.  
He noticed several people standing along the wall all wearing half masks obscuring their faces. He felt a chill go through him. Nothing good was going to come out of this. Voldemort just kept staring at Harry as if not knowing where to place him, before finally speaking.

“Who are you? I feel like I should know you, but I don’t recognize you and am sure I’ve never seen you before. And you are certainly not who I was expecting,” the Dark Lord stated in a monotone voice. Harry stared confused. 

“I’m Harry Potter,” he said slowly, not really believing the killer of his parents didn’t know him. 

Voldemort jerked as if slapped, rising from his seat and quickly walking down the steps leading up to his throne. Harry tried to move back but was held in place by the men standing on either side. A woman next to the throne started screaming out in denial while begging for mercy, as if she had made a mistake. She looked crazy, a manic expression framed by long curly hair. 

Voldemort walked up to Harry, and he was able to see his scaly appearance up close. He shivered in revulsion seeing that the man’s skin was made of tiny snake scales and that he was missing his nose. Before Harry could do anything at all, Voldemort used Legilimency and tore through his unprotected mind violently. He saw memories, emotions and everything that had happened leading up to him arriving here.   
Voldemort saw everything too, and it made the Dark Lord laugh, thinking how wonderful this opportunity was. The boy in front of him was broken. Abused by his muggle relatives, marked by his alternative self, a scapegoat for the public to blame. His Death Eaters had accidentally summoned a Potter from another world. Not only a Potter, but a human horcrux belonging to his alternative self. He decided he would keep the boy, maybe he could be of use. 

“Relax Bella! He isn’t the boy you are thinking of,” he told the mad woman when she became louder, complaining about her failure to kill the Potters, “they are still quite dead.” Looking at the boy, he saw the concealed fear and confusion. “What year is it, Harry Potter?” 

“What?” Harry asked confused, looking lost. The boy looked to be around fourteen, maybe a bit younger.

“Crucio,” Voldemort said almost lazily, pointing his wand at teen. Harry fell to the ground screaming in pain. When the curse was finally lifted minutes later, Voldemort looked annoyed. “You will answer my questions directly, do you understand?” When no answer came, he lifted his wand prepared to curse the boy again.

“Yes,” Harry rasped out from his position on the floor, not wanting to feel the cruciatus again. “1994,” he said when Voldemort was looking at him expectantly. Harry no longer knew what to think. He was obviously further from home than he had first believed.


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is not a Potter

Godrics Hollow, July 31st, 1980  
Lily Potter knew what they were doing was illegal and wrong on so many levels. Yet she couldn’t stop. She wanted a child. After giving birth to a still-born babe only the day before, she had almost given up hope. She had grieved and cried for her child. Tears still came unprovoked, silently trailing down her cheeks. James was no better. He had threatened the healer into silence. An unbreakable vow was made. She looked down at the beautiful baby in front of her. James had found a solution. Even if it was an unusual one. The small boy in front of her was perfect. He would be hers.  
Her husband had come home hours earlier from auror duty carrying the little tyke. A battle with himself and his partner against the three Lestranges. Death Eaters all. James’ auror partner had died in battle, but not before managing to take the child away from Bellatrix. James had managed to make it look like an accident. A burned-up body, the size of a small child, transfigured in haste. No one would ever know the truth. The Lestranges were awful people. She couldn’t imagine Bellatrix as a mother. It was better if they believed the child to be dead. After dropping the boy off in her arms, he had gone to the Ministry to report the death of his partner and the battle with the three Death Eaters, leaving the baby out. She would finally be a mother. Her greatest wish fulfilled. It was lucky they hadn’t seen anyone since she gave birth the day before. Lily had insisted on time alone. No one knew of their grief. No one would ever know.   
James returned home, wearied down with noticeable rings under his eyes after removing the glamours. It had been torture going to work after losing his child. Yet their image had to be upheld. The Potters couldn’t be seen as weak. A plan had formed in his mind the moment the small child had been thrust into his arms by his friend, who had died only hours before. It was lucky Sirius hadn’t been with him tonight. He would no doubt be against this. Bellatrix was after all his cousin and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he was still a Black.  
Lily had already prepared for the ritual in his absence. Dark in nature and intent. She spelled the fluid directly into the child’s stomach after adding their mixed blood into the potion. His appearance changed as the blood glamour took hold. They had decided against a full blood adoption, unable to get the rare and illegal potion ingredients. The boy was a metamorphmagus. Since James had dropped him off, his hair color had changed several times. It wouldn’t do for them to have a child with a magical ability usually found in the Black family. She performed the spell which was classified as blood magic. The ability was blocked and locked away. Hours later, the boy looked like a mix between herself and James. Green eyes looked up at her, instead of the previous grey. The turf of hair had lightened and straightened out, no longer curly black but instead the same unruly dark as James. She was already falling in love with her boy. They named him Harry James Potter and decided his birthday would be today, the 31st of July 1980. Neither knew that the moment would forever change history.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

October 31st, 1981  
Tragedy hit. After going into hiding, Lily felt restless. She didn’t understand how the prophecy could be about Harry when she deep down knew the truth. He hadn’t been born at the end of July. She didn’t even know when his true birthday was. And it all came tumbling down on All Hallows Eve. The Dark Lord Voldemort had somehow found them. Peter was probably dead too, tortured into giving up their location. She ran up the stairs hearing her husband fall too the ground behind her. Tears stung in her eyes as she placed Harry in his cot. Would she find redemption? Would she be forgiven for her crimes? She turned around the moment the door was blasted to pieces. Voldemort stepped inside.  
After killing the mother, he turned his wand towards the babe. How a small child could defeat him was beyond his imagination. The killing curse struck the chosen one and all he knew was pain.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

May 4th, 1998  
Harry was feeling beyond tired. It had only been two days since the final battle. He had defeated Voldemort, avenged his parents. He needed time alone and had locked himself inside Grimmauld Place after raising the wards. Harry knew people would be angry by his absence. Yet he couldn’t get himself to attend the many funerals. He wanted to get in contact with Andromeda Tonks. He wanted to see his godson. Gringotts had sent him a letter. No doubt a nasty one, considering his latest visit to their bank. Harry decided to go there after reading it over. He couldn’t let them take the entire Potter fortune. It was close to midnight, so with luck no one would see him in the Alley. He quickly dressed and apparated directly onto the steps leading up to large iron doors.  
As soon as he stepped inside, several armored goblins surrounded him pointing spears at his neck. He was quickly marched into a meeting room with several goblins already present. They demanded he payed for the damages caused by their break-in. Not caring that it helped him get rid of the Dark Lord at all.

“Fine, but only after an inheritance test. I want access to all the vaults I own,” Harry said feeling vindictive, seeing the sneers on their faces. The amount was large enough to empty the Potter vault completely. 

“Very well, Wizard!” the goblin spat. Another quickly carried a bowl and dagger to the table. 

“Your hand!” Harry lifted his hand which was dragged over the bowl. The goblin cut deep, and Harry hissed. He observed them adding the potion to a piece of parchment while wrapping his hand tightly with a piece of his shirt. He wouldn’t risk using his wand in here. They would no doubt kill him on the spot. One of the goblins pushed the parchment towards him and he lifted it up with his good hand and started reading as the words formed on the page.

Inheritance test by blood, Gringotts Bank of London

Birth Name: Eliath Corvus Black-Lestrange  
Adopted Name: Harry James Potter

Birth Parents:  
Bellatrix Black-Lestrange (deceased)  
Rodolphus Lestrange (incarcerated – Blocked vault access)

Adopted Parents:  
James Potter (deceased)  
Lily Potter (deceased)

Access to vault:  
Lestrange  
Black  
Peverell (null)  
Potter (null)

Blocked by Blood:  
Metamorphmagus abilities  
Glamour

Harry read the paper going deathly pale. Reading it over multiple times. What? He thought frantically. He didn’t know how long he sat staring at the parchment in shock. His mind had shut down confused and wary. He was a Lestrange. Bellatrix was his mother. She had tried to kill him. No one had known. No one knew. Maybe Dumbledore, but no one else. Rodolphus was still alive. Probably already in Azkaban again. His parents hadn’t told anyone. Had Bellatrix known? Sirius? His mind was spinning, and he felt dizzy almost like he was going to throw up. One of the goblins tried to get his attention and he threw the paper on the table. They read it and started talking in their own harsh language.   
“This is certainly a surprise, Mr. Lestrange,” The goblin said. Harry jerked at the name. 

“But it doesn’t change anything. You still need too empty out your vaults,” the goblin continued. Harry nodded feeling numb. How had he ended up with his parents? With the Potters? 

“What does it mean? Blocked by blood?” Harry asked. 

“There are certain rituals able to bind magical abilities or spells in place. It would seem you are a metamorphmagus. Abilities which have been blocked. I can only guess, but the glamour is likely your appearance. Linking it to the Potters by blood instead of your birth parents,” the goblins explained seeing the overwhelmed wizard. “We are able to remove the blocks for a fee, of course, if you so desire.”

Harry thought about it. Cringing a bit, thinking of how he might look like Bellatrix or Rodolphus. He had always been told his green eyes looked like his mother, but they were probably not even real. He would however be able to change back if he was a metamorphmagus. Thinking of Tonks and how often he had seen her change. It was what made him make up his mind. 

“I would like that,” he said coming to a decision.


	12. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the strangest of them all

Harry Potter had lived a long life. He had married his school crush Ginny Weasley. Together they had had three children, two boys and a girl. Harry had become an auror after defeating Voldemort, later becoming the youngest Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They had had some happy years together. He had spent most of his life catching criminals, never actually liking his job. He felt like it had been forced upon him, first with the prophecy by Dumbledore in his teens, and later after his public defeat of Voldemort by everyone including his own friends and family, urging him on to take the job at the Ministry. He couldn’t exactly remember how it had happened, the memories a bit muddy and unclear.   
He had divorced Ginny after discovering her numerous affairs. At that point, their children were already grown up, having moved out. The separation had fractured their family. Not that it mattered anymore. Nothing really did. He was now 129 years old. The Ministry of Magic was long since gone and he was no longer an auror. Ginny was no longer alive. It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

The world had changed. The year was 2109. Muggles had discovered the existence of the magical world almost 35 years prior. With the rise of advanced technology and more sophisticated surveillance cameras it was bound to happen eventually, Harry though. When it finally did happen, the two worlds had grown so far apart that it was almost laughable. The discovery had started a war that was currently ongoing on its 33th year, making it one of the longest wars in recent history. The Great Magical War they had started called it, the last he heard. The muggles were winning. They had wiped out most of the magical communities across the world, killing off the magic population systematically, while fighting armies, aurors, hit-wizards and magical beasts at the same time.   
Muggles had always been afraid of the things they didn’t understand, Harry thought, unclear if that was something he had come up with himself or heard Voldemort say once, decades ago. Harry had been a General in Britain fighting for the magicals. They never had a chance. He was currently sitting in a small solitary cell, deemed extremely dangerous and unapproachable. He didn’t know how the other countries were doing, but the magical community in Britain no longer existed. It had been destroyed by the muggle army. Harry had seen Ginny, Ron and his son, James be gunned down by soldiers storming Hogsmeade. He had seen the bombing of Hogwarts. Ruins was all that was left of the once magnificent castle.  
Most of the Ministry Employees had been charged with treason and sedition, himself included. His children were dead, the Weasleys were dead, the Longbottoms were dead, the Malfoys were dead. He didn’t think anyone had survived the purge. They had kept him alive. He didn’t know why which made him wary. He had been confined to this cell after the massacre. Harry had been here for months. Maybe they were uncomfortable killing an old man, he thought amusedly, thinking of his grey hair while running his hand down the white beard he had grown in the time he had been incarcerated. He had certainly killed his share of muggles in the war, honestly never believing his life would end up like this.

A man came to see him. He looked like a doctor, Harry concluded upon seeing the lab coat and scientific instruments he’d never seen before.   
“Ah, Mr. Potter. You can call me George,” the man, George, greeted him politely, obviously knowing who he was, even though he had never given them his name. Harry guessed the man to be in his late forties. “I have some questions for you that I hope you’ll answer.”

Harry stared passively, not giving anything away. If he had learned anything in his long life, then it was controlling his emotions. And it was something he was very good at. He had befriended an Unspeakable early in his career, who had thought him what Snape never could. A full mastery of Occlumency.  
“Sure, what do you want to know?” Harry answered, honestly feeling tired. He was too old for this crap.

“I am the magical advisor and lead magical scientist for the British Government. We are currently conducting a series of experiments, and I would like your opinion or knowledge on certain topics,” the man explained ominously. Experiments? Harry thought, not really liking the sound of it.

“First, what do you know of Phoenixes?” Harry blinked confused. That was not what he had been expecting. 

“They are very loyal,” He stated, as that was the first thing that came to mind. 

The scientist nodded and wrote something down. “Do you know anything about their seemingly immortal life-cycle?” the man prodded. 

Harry didn’t know if he should tell him anything, not that he knew much. “No, not really. Phoenixes are very rare. I’m afraid I’ve never meet one,” he lied, thinking it was better to keep any magical information from this innocent looking muggle.

“How old are you?” The man continued without pause. Again, Harry blinked, not expecting the shift in topic. 

“Over a hundred… I think,” trying to look confused. Harry was honestly having a great time. What was up with these questions?

“Secondly, do you know anything about the Philosopher’s Stone?” Harry almost jerked but managed to control himself. 

“I’ve heard about it,” he stated, thinking back on his first year at Hogwarts. The stone was supposedly destroyed. At least that was what Dumbledore had told him. He wouldn’t be surprised if that had been a lie. 

The man, George, looked at him with a curious face. “Have you ever seen it?” 

“No,” He lied again. “If it even exists then it would probably be impossible to find seeing as the inventor died over a hundred years ago.”

“hmm, yes, you are probably right… moving on, have your ever heard about horcruxes?” the man asked in a calm voice. 

This time Harry jerked. Starring wide-eyed at the man, George. 

“Ah, you have! Good! What can you tell me about them?” Harry was asked in what he would describe as an eager voice.

The questions made a strange sense. They all had to do with longlivity or immortality. Surely the muggles weren’t trying to find a method to live forever? The thought alone made Harry shudder in dismay. He decided to tell this so-called scientist what he knew of horcruxes, hoping to dissuade their pursuit if that was what they were doing.  
“I fought a dark lord once. He had attained immortality,” Harry started, knowing his deductions were right when he saw the greed in the man, George’s eyes. “It didn’t end well for him. He split his soul seven times with murder. Creating one horcrux is seen as the foulest thing you can do magic-wise. This Dark Lord did it repeatedly. Horcruxes literally rips your soul apart, forevermore tainting you. This particular Dark Lord thought he was a god, seeing himself as above everyone else. He went insane. I think creating a horcrux became his downfall in the end. He would probably have lasted longer, if he hadn’t created one in the first place,” Harry concluded.

The scientist looked contemplative, nodding along. “I see,” the man, George, said. Harry hoped his warning would be enough. Not that they would be able to create a horcrux, thankfully thinking that they didn’t have magic.   
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry was rudely awoken by a guard one morning. He was told to follow. Walking out his cell for the first time in months, the first thing he tried was to disapparate away. I didn’t work. They had wards around the prison complex. How that was even possible, he didn’t know. He was marched to a white room. It looked like a futuristic laboratory. Machines and technology, he couldn’t even begin to describe, stood along the walls and filled several tables. A plain bed occupied the middle of the room. Harry noticed it had restrains for both arms and legs. He was told to lie down.  
He was too old to fight back. Harry honestly thought that if they killed him, then it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Everyone he knew were dead. The guard secured him, putting him in the restrains. 

A moment later the scientist from weeks earlier entered. The man, George, walked up and greeted Harry as if he was used to seeing an elderly man be bound to the table. Harry watched as the scientist walked around and prepared his work, whatever it was. He looked curiously around, and noticed several older books spread out on the table, looking oddly out of place. It wasn’t before he noticed the bookcase with more muggle modern looking books that Harry realized the ones on the table had to be magical in origin. 

“I am hoping for a breakthrough today!” the man, George, suddenly exclaimed. “I believe this to be possible. I need your help however. You can see this as a sort of test run. If we are successful today, then this is going to change humanity as we know it!” 

Harry looked at the man, thinking he seemed almost psychotic since the last time he had seen him. The double doors leading into the room were pushed open and two assistants came in, rolling a table with a bird lying on it. Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. They had a Phoenix. A real Phoenix. It was a deep red and black in color. Its long tail feathers were trailing along on the floor. Why wasn’t it moving. Surely it was alive, Harry knew Phoenixes could never die, always reborn in the ashes. 

“Yes! We have a Phoenix!” the scientist told him in an elated voice. “We have to keep it sedated or else it’ll get away. We can’t lose it. The first one we caught got away by flaming out! I don’t think you know how hard we fought to catch this one!” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What were they intending on doing with the majestic bird. Surely, they wouldn’t hurt it?

“Now your role in this is very simple. I have created a way to channel magic, using confiscated wands and various magical objects. It has taken decades, a lot of trial and error, but it is finally ready,” the scientist explained to Harry who was becoming more and more incredulous. This didn’t sound good at all. 

“You are going to make this Phoenix into a horcrux.” The man demanded in an important voice. Harry stared horrified. 

“What?!” he shouted, “I would never!” Looking intimidating for a 129-year-old immobilized on a bed. Harry’s fury reached new levels. He didn’t think he had ever felt this angry. Who did they think they were? He would kill them and free the bird if he got the chance. He could feel his magic trying to lash out. Several objects in the room rose, levitating in the air. The assistants shouted out in alarm. The scientist yelled for the guards to come in but looked overjoyed at the same time. 

“I’m sorry but you won’t have a choice in the matter,” the scientist picked something up from the table behind Harry, and pointing it at the old savior, pressed the button. 

Harry felt like his magic was being ripped from his body in multiple directions. Twisting his head to one side he finally saw one of the machines occupying the walls. It looked like broken wand pieces were a big part of it. He didn’t know what happened but suddenly a frightening green light illuminated the room. It was a light Harry was familiar with. The killing curse erupted from somewhere above him and he instantly knew he had given some of his magic up to cast it. He had somehow been tricked into casting the killing curse by a muggle. The curse swirled through the air hitting one of the assistants close to the Phoenix. The young assistant fell to the ground dead. In that moment, Harry felt his body burn. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, not even sure how to describe it. The Phoenix on the table shrieked, waking up from the powerful sedative as the piece of a human soul was forevermore linked to its existence, uniting bird and human together. 

Harry was sure this was his end. He was going to die. His chest was beating painfully, sweat pouring down his face. He was breathing harshly, and he could feel his magic which was out of control. His magic suddenly reacted to his intentions and the restrains broke. The guards shouted out in alarm, but before they could even point their gun at him, they all died. Heads severed from their bodies. Blood sprayed, painting the white sterile walls crimson. Harry turned and looked at the lone surviving muggle. The scientist smiled, knowing his experiment had succeeded. 

“What did you do?” Harry demanded in a magnified voice, looking frightening, his white beard swaying in an invisible storm raging around him. He walked towards the muggle, his magic pinning the man against the wall. “You will tell me what you just did, whether you talk or not is unimportant.” Harry looked into the man’s eyes and ripped through his mind forcefully. He stopped when he had the answer. “This is the biggest mistake you have ever made.” Harry told him, before his magic took over, ripping the man apart. His intestines landing on the floor by his feet splattering Harry with blood.

He stood among the dead shakenly. It was impossible. It should be impossible. Somehow a muggle had figured out how to make horcruxes. It was the most terrifying thought, Harry had ever had. Looking over the many books on the table, he saw dark tomes and illegal books describing dark magic in detail. It looked like the muggles had collected knowledge during the purge too. He wondered how many countries was trying to exploit magic. He looked over at the Phoenix, feeling a bit silly for being afraid of its reaction to his violence. The magnificent bird was looking at him, standing perfectly still on its small table. It tilted its head as he looked at it. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He really hoped it was a cruel joke, and that the immortal fire-bird wasn’t his horcrux. Surely it couldn’t be!


	13. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, Harry is not a Potter

Lestrange Manor, July 1980  
Bellatrix was in hysterics. Furniture shattered, house-elves hid from their mistress in distress and Rodolphus had gone to the Dark Lord to beg for help. The family members of the House of Black were in an uproar and everything were slowly shattering into tiny pieces. The thing that broke Bellatrix would be the end of both Houses Black and Lestrange. Her precious baby boy had been taken. Gone, without a trace. It would be the event that pushed them over the edge and into madness. What no one knew was that it was also the beginning of the end of the world as they knew it.  
\--  
Six months later, the Black-Lestrange heir was declared dead by the Ministry. The family mourned in private. The war intensified, and the Dark Lord Voldemort was slowly winning. It took Harry Potter to stop him.   
\--

Diagon Alley, May 5th, 1998  
Harry was walking down the cobbled street underneath his invisibility cloak. He took in the changes and noticed several stores in the process of reopening. It was only three days after the battle at Hogwarts and changes had already started occurring. The thing he could do without however, was the many reporters hounding him, asking questions and following him wherever he went. He walked towards the large white marble building. Gringotts had repaired the damage. He winced slightly, thinking of the dead goblins. They probably wouldn’t be very happy with his break-in. It felt like a lifetime ago. He removed the cloak before entering the bank.  
The head-goblin in charge of the floor today looked up as soon as the Potter heir walked inside. Gesturing to the guards by the golden doors leading further into the bank, he pointed slightly towards the human. It didn’t take long for them to be seated in a private meeting room. Harry looked around, fidgeting slightly. The opulence around him made him nervous. Three goblins sat on a raised dais in front of him, looking slightly older than the ones he usually saw on the bank floor. 

“You have been branded a thief and stand accused of theft, property damage and the murder of fourteen goblins. We demand repercussions in the form of monetary gains.” The middle goblin barked in a gravely voice. Harry grimaced at the charges. Everything he knew about goblins, told him this was bad, very bad. Before he had a chance to respond the goblin continued. 

“We have taken the liberty to liquidate the Potter account and use it to repair the damage you caused, wizard.” Harry felt a momentarily flash of anger. How dare they take what belonged to his family. After everything he had done. They would likely all be dead if Voldemort was still in power. Seeing their sneering faces and hateful stares, made him back down, and he slowly calmed himself, trying to reign his anger in. 

“However, the gold in the Potter vault was not enough to pay for the damage. Therefore, we demand an additional amount of one hundred thousand galleons or the alternative, you never setting foot on goblin territory again, including any of the Gringotts banking establishments around the world. We would have an unbreakable oath if this is what you choose.” Harry felt his anger return. How dare they? 

“You should know that the item I took from the bank was what made it possible to kill Voldemort.” He said in a clipped voice, happy that the anger he felt was somewhat concealed. It had been drilled into him by Binns at Hogwarts, that hostile behaviour against angry goblins would likely lead to a war. Hell, the bastards had started rebellions over less.

“Your wizarding wars have no relevance to us! You will pay the amount due or be banned from goblin territory!” the goblin to the left barked out. 

Harry exhaled slowly, trying to calm down. “Fine! But I want to take an inheritance test to claim any vault rightfully belonging to me!” he said, not even knowing if it was possible. He however, remembered reading about such a test in his fourth year, when he had tried to find something to get him out of the Triwizard Tournament.  
The goblins reluctantly agreed, thinking the young wizard wouldn’t be eligible to any additional vaults. A large scroll and a wicked looking dagger were brought forth. Harry sliced his palm and blood pooled on the empty parchment. It didn’t take long before it was absorbed. Silver writing faded onto the page, filling it out slowly. The Goblins quickly grabbed it, and Harry could see their shocked faces. The eyes of the goblin on the right boggled out, before he caught himself. The middle goblin looked up and his face was impassive. The ugly sneer had disappeared. They all looked at him impassively, no longer with hateful small piggy eyes.

“what?” Harry asked reluctantly. Something was wrong. The middle goblin handed him the scroll without a word and he quickly looked down and   
Harry’s mind reeled at the possibility of him not even looking like he did. They had changed his appearance? Why? He had so many unanswered questions. Could everything that had been done to him, even be undone? He asked the last question out loud.

“We would be open for negotiations. Everything is possible for a price, of course.” Was the answer. Harry wondered about their changed attitude but decided to count it as a blessing.   
\--

The charges were dropped, Harry signed a confidentiality agreement, and after longwinded discussions back and forth it was decided to do a purification ritual at Gringotts.   
Hours later, Harry was lying naked on his back deep below ground, in a huge cave, walls decorated with obsidian. Several goblins stood in two tier rings around him chanting in their native language. The ritual had cost him half of the Lestrange vault, but he had decided it was worth the price after hearing what some of the nefarious magic had done to him and was likely to do. His hand cupped his private parts, shielding them from view. He felt a bit embarrassed lying exposed like this.   
There was a sudden spike in pain. He couldn’t stop from screaming out loud, his back arching. The ritual burned away the bindings and potions tied to him. It felt like molten lava purred down his throat and through his body. It was worse than the cruciatus. He was trashing around on the stone floor. His appearance melted and changed as if he had been under a Polyjuice. The blood glamour was removed, and the last thing Harry felt was his magic releasing as sweat and blood came pouring down his eyes. The world went black.  
The goblins saw a wand, a stone and a cloak appear above the human known to the wizarding world as Harry Potter. They stopped the ritual, shocked by the sudden arrival by the legendary artefacts. They could only watch as the three Deathly Hallows merged together and became a bright white light. Before anyone could react, the orb of light had slammed into the chest below. Harry, unconscious, rose up in the air, sparks of different colours twirled around him in a maelstrom of magic. The thirty-two goblins present dived for cover, sensing the explosion about to occur.  
\--  
The magical backlash destroyed every magical ward in a twelve-mile radius. At the Ministry, several magic detectors melted or exploded. Multiple recorded prophecies around the world went dark as the Master of Death became reality. Deep down underground, at the British Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Mysteries the Death chamber grew cold and the Veil fluttered violently.  
The goblins and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, together with the Ministry’s Obliviation Squad were suddenly very busy. The International Confederation of Wizards, the I.C.W. for short, even had to join in on the efforts to keep the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy from crumbling. The incident was later classified as an attack from someone who wanted to expose magic to muggles. The goblins claimed to know nothing.  
The London Attack as it became known, made it possible for several prominent pureblood families to hold onto their power. two factions rose within the Wizengamot. Those who wanted to expose magic to muggles and those who opposed and wanted to keep the Statute. The topic was heavily discussed by many.  
\--  
Three days later, Harry Potter was reported missing by the Weasleys. He was later blamed for the attack.

\--  
Goblin Infirmary, unknown location   
He was floating, all the while feeling light and clear headed. Slowly, he felt like rising from a body of water. Sluggishly opening his eyes. His vision had never been better, the details stood out crystal clear. His hand felt around his face for his missing glasses and he wondered what else had changed. He was in a white robe. Before he could do anything else, a door banged open and two goblins walked in. He tried to rise from the bed he was lying in, but one of the goblins forcefully pushed him back down. The other started introducing himself.

“I am Ragnuk the Eight, King of the Goblin Nation. This is Healer Maeve. It is good to finally see you awake Lord Black.” 

Goblin king? Lord Black? What a way to wake up. “ 

“How long have I been out?” Harry asked, thinking it couldn’t have been more than a few hours, maybe a day.

“you’ve been unconscious for four months.” The goblin king replied slowly, making Harry’s head spin. What? Four months? He almost fell out of the bed in shock. “A lot have changed in the time you’ve been out. I’m afraid it’s not all good news.” 

“Where am I exactly?” He wanted to get out, to see what else had changed, beside himself. His thoughts were much clearer, and he could remember things, he had previously forgotten. His mind somehow worked differently than before. 

“You are currently in the heart of the Goblin Nation, on our territories on the continent. Part of Magical Russia.” The king elaborated. The healer, who had up until now been silent, asked if he wanted a mirror to see the changes. “We will speak more later. I’ll personally brief you on the situation outside. It’ll take some time to go over. You are safe here as no one knows where you are.”  
He wondered how much had changed, and why on earth the goblins had moved him to Russia? Everyone back home was probably wondering where he was. The healer returned with a full-length mirror before leaving him alone again.   
He slowly rose from the bed. Walking towards the mirror, he noticed his balance had changed. His legs where longer than before.


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> insane Harry

Azkaban Island, sometime after 2051  
In a dreary, dark cell deep below sea level, a black-haired youth sat rocking back and forth. He appeared to be oblivious to his surroundings, his eyes distant staring into the wall. The filthy rags he wore made him look even younger than he was. His too thin emancipated frame shaking from the cold, damp walls. He looked to be around seventeen, but the truth was he was much older. Not that he himself knew exactly how old. Not that it really mattered. He no longer cared about time. They had locked him in and broken him a long time ago. Only days after saving their entire world. This was his reward. Distant green eyes suddenly turned sharp hearing the sound of footsteps approaching. It had been a while, days, months, years, since anyone had come to see him. Maybe now was the time.  
It was Granger, now Weasley. He had stopped using her first name some time ago. They were no longer friends after all. She stepped into view and he was surprised to see stray locks of grey in her hair. He looked down and tried to appear weak. Surely, she wasn’t foolish enough to enter? She slowly unlocked the iron door, which screeched loudly as it was pushed open. He could feel it, today was his day. She walked in. He noticed her wearing the deep purple Unspeakable rope, hood drawn down around her neck. Wand in hand. She had been one of the Unspeakables to test him, to experiment. Immortality was something they wanted after all. It would be the ultimate conquering of time. Something the department wanted deeply. He almost chuckled. They had only been able to verify his own immortality. Granger was standing in front of him now. Time to act.

“Harry.. “ she said in a low pleasant voice. Almost as if they were the best of friends. He looked up and saw her surprise. Always surprise. She had wrinkles around her eyes. She took a step back, not prepared for the madness, the slightly insane glint in his eyes. Last time they had been hazy, broken. That had been seven years ago. Before she had time to raise her wand, he was upon her. Hands squeezing around her neck. Her eyes bulged, and he jerked forcefully, snapping her fragile neck. Down she went, loudly falling onto the stone floor. He undressed slowly. The prison uniform discarded. After taking off his clothes, his whole body shimmered. It flickered, like a waterfall tumbling down, and changed into something else entirely. Where he had been gaunt and thin looking, he was now fit and filled-out. Muscles and mass altering his appearance to that of a healthy teenager. Looking the same as the day they imprisoned him. He stood naked above his former friend. Thinking, he had a greater chance at escape wearing the Unspeakable rope, he started to undress her. He looked her over once he was done and didn’t feel anything but revulsion. It would have been nice to finally have a woman. He was still a virgin. But his former friend was not pretty enough, young enough, to turn him on.   
\--  
No one noticed the unspeakable leaving Azkaban. It wasn’t that uncommon. They often used inmates as test subjects. Harry Potter was free for the first time since 1998.  
\--  
Ministry of magic, London, October 27th, 2058  
Unspeakable Granger-Weasley appeared in the atrium by portkey, only staying long enough to take today’s edition of the Daily Prophet, before dissaparating out. It would be some time before she was reported missing.  
\--  
Hogwarts looked the same. Even though the world had moved on, unrecognizable to him, the old castle stood unchanged. He was a distance away, outside the wards. He looked different again. A new disguise. A random muggle’s face. They had finally reported his break-out. Only four days after it had happened. He grinned, showing teeth, wishing he could see their faces when they had found her naked in his cell.  
It was almost time to move on. He had a plan. An insane plan, but a plan, nonetheless. He didn’t like this time. He didn’t like the changes, the strangeness to everything. He had plans to go back. To be a step ahead. To win. To get his revenge. It was almost time. It would happen tonight. On Halloween. Samhain, when the veil was thinnest. There was only one problem. He was still a virgin. Not what he wanted to be when going back to his eight-year-old body.   
\--


	15. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily Prophet Headlines

Daily Prophet headlines:

POTTER VICTORIOUS! THE-MAN-WHO-CONQUERED defeats You-Know-Who in duel

Kingsley Shacklebolt temporary Minister for Magic

Ministry repeals Muggle-born Registration Commission

Minerva McGonagall new Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

African showdown at Quidditch World Cup – Senegal v Malawi

Potter-Weasley Matrimony – to be the Social Event of the Year

Harry Potter takes up the mantle of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – Spotted in Diagon Alley

GRINGOTTS CLOSED! GOBLINS IN REVOLT

3 Wizards dead, more injured on the steps of Gringotts

GOBLIN REBELLION to start new millennia. WELCOME TO THE 21ST CENTURY 

Uprising in the Old Ways? Ritual residue found at Stonehenge

The Battle of Diagon Alley! 142 dead, Death Count rising

ALLEY CLOSED BY GOBLIN WARDS

Minister Shacklebolt declare Martial law – Aurors to enforce curfew

Auror Potter resigns! The-Man-Who-Conquered leaves Ministry in rage

Auror patrol at Hogwarts – fear of Goblin Attack

Kingsley to partition for help with ICW

STATUTE OF SECRECY FALLS! GOBLINS AT FAULT

DISCOVERED BY MUGGLES

 

International muggle headlines:

Magic is real

Whole societies hidden from us 

Britain in a Goblin War?

The Pope speaks to masses assembled at St. Peter’s Square – Do magicals pose a danger to our way of life?

The Vatican holds emergency assembly 

President Clinton confirms prior knowledge of Magic

Magical attack in Chile, 5 confirmed dead

What are the possibilities of magic – so-called Squib speaks out

The Church condemns all acts of magic

‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’ 

Britain on verge of war? – Blair instates Martial law

International aid to help mundanes in Great Britain 

British Government collapse, Prime Minister and officials killed by magicals

Magicals attack London

All Out Battle in Godric’s Hollow

Queen Elizabeth II declare: British Magical-Mundane Civil War

Skirmishes breaks out in the United States – MACUSA: a shadow government?

WORLD WAR III next? 

Daily Prophet headlines:

Minister Shacklebolt holds emergency meeting with muggle Queen and Prime Minister

Peace talk fails – Kingsley forced to resign by Wizengamot 

Attack on Wizards – Muggle Army kills 20 

Potter Declines offer to become Minister by owl

Euphemia Rowle sworn in as Minister of Magic

International Magical headlines:

Statute falls in Great Britain

ICW intervenes

Battle destroys the town of Godric’s Hollow, England

Great Britain’s No-Maj Queen declare war on magic!

MACUSA revealed to muggles – Officials arrested for treason

MUGGLE-WIZARD WAR BREAKS OUT IN EUROPE 

ICW suspends The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy 

How to Defend Yourself from the average Muggle

International Muggle headlines:

World War III a Reality – China joins Allies against Magic

Nuclear attack on Magical schools – Quarantine lockdown in northern Scotland

Russia falls to magicals – Government disappears overnight

Moscow in ruins – Mundanes death count in millions

DARK MAGIC CLOSE OFF LARGE PART OF NORTH AMERICA 

Nuke destroys New York – MACUSA annihilated 

Death toll rising – Toxic rain contaminates drinking water 

BREAKING NEWS: WIZARD GRINDELWALD BEHIND HILTER 

How wizards started World War II 

Experts: planet Earth is dying. Estimations say all plant life to end before next year

Scientists finds genome related to magic 

A huge Victory for Allied forces

Britain instates random checks – Magicals subdued 

Magical Resistance group defeated!

Wizard Prison uncovered – the Horrors of Magic 

Great Britain first country to be magic free – The Crown addresses armed forces

Scientific camps set up to study magical people

VICTORY! III WORLD WAR ENDS

Magical War ends in its 4th year

Pocket resistance groups – the last remnants of MACUSA

A Magic Free world = A Dying world?

The United State of America, the end of an era.

A magical wasteland, new species discovered 

Plague hits Europe – War-torn cities exposed 

Earth population more than halved – Billions of mundanes dead

Governments to ensure humanity’s survival 

Plans to set up Moon-base

Exodus from Earth

The last remains of magic: end of an ancient civilisation 

Colonies on Mars: Terraforming going after schedule 

 

Somewhere in Great Britain, 23 years after exodus  
Unknown, Magical Camp 002


	16. 16

Little Hangleton graveyard, June 24th, 1995  
Harry was in pain, yet he refused to scream out loud. He could taste blood as he writhed on the damp ground. The summoned Death Eaters were standing in a half circle around them watching. He was no match for the killer of his parents. It was foolish to think he could take on Voldemort in a duel. The torture curse ran through his body, the fourth minute ticking by.

Voldemort was intent on making the boy who had defied him again and again scream. He didn’t care if it broke his mind in the process. He wanted to win. Finally, an almost inhuman scream tore through the air. The Dark Lord was about to lift his curse satisfied, when something impossible happened. He watched on in incredulity as the boy changed before his eyes. Potter’s skin paled rapidly almost as white as himself. The lightning scar on Potter’s forehead burst open, a dark cloud escaping and flying towards him, slamming into his chest. The shock made his hand drop to his side. The boy was still screaming even though the curse had been lifted. Screams even louder than before. His hair lengthened and curled while slowly bleeding into an even darker jet-black.  
The Death Eaters didn’t know what was happening, but they could all see the Potter boy as his skin and appearance bubbled and bleed into another. Voldemort suspected Polyjuice for a second but dismissed it as soon as another scream tore through the graveyard. The transformation of Polyjuice didn’t hurt this much.

Lucius Malfoy didn’t know what to think when the Potter boy screamed again. He almost pitied him. Whatever was happening to him was without a doubt beyond painful. He could help stare as the youthful face paled, the previous sun-tanned skin changing into an alabaster white. He was shocked when the scar emitted some form of wraith. The boy’s features sharpened. Higher cheekbones. Thinner eyebrows. Longer eyelashes. The boy looked almost feminine now, his changed appearance giving him an aristocratic and androgynous look. Lucius almost took a step back when the transformation was complete. The boy was a spitting image of his sister-in-law. If Bellatrix Lestrange was twenty years younger and a boy. He could even see some resemblance between Potter and his own wife and son. He was kneeling beside the boy before he even registered his own actions. He froze when Potter opened his eyes. Heavy-lidded silver-grey eyes stared up at him. The boy had without a doubt the look of a Black. He looked towards his lord who looked as shocked as he felt himself.

“What did you do to me?” the boy managed to ask. Even his voice sounded different, Lucius thought.


	17. 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry raised as a Black

”I, Cassiopeia Violetta Black as a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black accept you into the family,” the regal-looking woman started the ritual in a firm voice. She sliced her hand with a dagger and several drops of blood fell into the chalice in front of her. She added blood from her grand-niece, Bellatrix and her husband, Rodolphus who was currently locked up in Azkaban and who would stay locked up for the rest of their life. It hadn’t been easy getting enough of their blood for what she was about to do, but she was a Black and if nothing else very resourceful.   
She looked down at the baby lying silently beside her on the floor. She had always wanted children. Never in a million years would she had thought this was the way she would get one. The Boy Who Lived, Harry James Potter would become her son. Or more specific become her great-grand-nephew. For all intent and purposes, he would become a Black, a Lestrange. The son of Bellatrix and Rodolphus. She had kidnapped him, made it look like his muggle relatives had killed him. No one would ever know the truth.   
Cassiopeia placed the toddler in the middle of a pentagram drawn out meticulously on the floor. Flicking her wand, the mixed blood was spelled directly into the child. Candles around them room flickered, casting eerie shadows over both of them. She began chanting in Latin and the magic in the room steadily rose to new heights. Harry Potter started to change. The Blood adoption ritual making him a true member of her family.

“Harry James Potter casts out the blood of Potter and denounces his name. He severs all ties to his born parents and true ancestors,” she intoned making the child lurch of the ground obscenely screaming out in pain. 

“He accepts the Blood of his mother Bellatrix Black Lestrange. May this gift flourish to its full extent and make him a son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.” He was obviously in pain, writhing on the floor. His hair darkened to an even darker black and the unruly locks curled up, making him look less like a Potter and more like Bellatrix as a child. His skin paled rapidly. His new almost white, alabaster complexion stood in stark contrast to the black curls. Cassiopeia blinked surprised when his hair and eyes cycled through a multitude of different colors. A metamorphmagus. He had somehow gained the ability that was known in their family. She smiled satisfied. 

“He accepts the Blood of his father, Rodolphus Corvus Lestrange. May this gift flourish to its full extent and make him a son of the Noble House of Lestrange.” She watched as he become slightly slimmer and grew taller. Not by much, but enough to notice. His eyes bleed from the green he had inherited from the mudblood to a metallic silver, a trait often found in the Lestrange family. 

“I name you Alioth Corvus Black Lestrange, forever more a true born son of the Noble House of Lestrange, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. So Mote It Be.” The magic which had been building around them since she began surged forward slamming into the changing child. Cassiopeia staggered backwards as the boy wailed louder than before. A large black cloud burst from his forehead expelling some kind of mist. A wraith, she thought, seeing a distorted face. Alioth’s forehead healed, leaving unblemished skin. She was pushed forcefully backwards as the magic in the room exploded. Every candle was extinguished. The windows shattered and blew out in a thousand pieces of glass. The entire house trembled in the aftermath. A powerful one indeed, was all Cassiopeia could think of looking on with wide eyes. 

Unknown to her several things happened simultaneously elsewhere.

The night sky on Privet Drive was lit up by a dome of magic as several blood wards fell. The destruction of the ancient magic made the air around number four crackle loudly, the smell of ozone heavy in the air. 

In the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, several instruments and artefacts keyed to Harry Potter exploded, melted or wailed loudly. Albus Dumbledore fell out of his chair in surprise. He immediately left for Privet Drive, disappearing in a ball of flame together with his familiar.  
In another part of the castle, a tower inaccessible to anyone beside the Headmaster and his Deputy, a magical book opened by itself, the pages turning as if a blast of wind had surged through the room. A Quill hovering in the air started moving and crossed out a name before adding a new one. The book closed again when it was done. 

The Black family tapestry was a work of art. It automatically updated when a new member of their large family was born. The magical family tree stretched back to the middle ages. In Grimmauld Place a silver thread connected Bellatrix Black with Rodolphus Lestrange. The thread moved downwards adding the name of Alioth Black.

The Hall of Records at the Ministry of Magic in London automatically kept records of every pureblood citizen or family in the country. That night, several things happened. The Noble House of Potter was declared extinct as its last member was registered as dead. A new member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the Noble House of Lestrange was written into the records. Alioth Corvus Black Lestrange was noted down as the son of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. The new information was sent to Gringotts as part of a former treaty with the goblins.  
The goblins closed the Potter vault that same night after getting confirmation and added a new name to the list of people who could access the Black and Lestrange vaults. 

Deep underground, below the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Mysteries one of the Unspeakables was notified of the nullification of a prophecy. On row 97, a glass orb in the Hall of Prophecy turned dark and inactive. 

In Albania, a possessed snake jerked violently as part of Tom Riddle’s soul was unknowingly destroyed.   
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Nine years later… (1990)

Alioth, or Elly as he was called, was a curious child. He lived with his godmother, aunt Cassie in one of the biggest Black estates scattered around the world. The castle they lived in was located in the Russian Empire. They had been here for two years now. He had just turned ten and would start at Durmstrang soon. They started teaching students a year earlier than Hogwarts. His aunt had insisted even though he would rather have gone to Hogwarts with his cousin Draco.   
Elly already had a wand, one belonging to one of his many ancestors. Yew, dragon heartstring, he believed. His aunt had taught him magic since he was four, at least an hour every day. He knew Latin, French and Russian, although he usually spoke in English. He was British after all. His uncle Lucius had taught him and cousin Draco some minor dark arts which was why, he was currently in the library searching for more. He needed to know the incantations for the Unforgivables. They could be useful and if there was one thing he had been taught then it was knowledge equaled power. And Blacks where powerful. His aunt and uncle wouldn’t tell him, but he knew she wouldn’t mind if he found out on his own.   
Finally, after hours of searching he found a book about them that wouldn’t bite, scream or curse him because of his age. He really hated the age restricted books. Elly read about the first unforgivable. The imperius curse able to control another’s actions. He could see the usefulness of it, but it wasn’t really that interesting. Moving on he read attentively about the torture curse. The cruciatus curse. Incantation Crucio. He smiled appreciatively. The caster would need to feel a strong desire to cause the victim harm. Elly had an idea, but better to do it without his aunt’s knowing. She wouldn’t mind him searching out knowledge but testing them was another matter entirely. 

“Mute,” he called. His personal house-elf was indeed mute. He had been told that his mother had cut out its tongue because she disliked the house-elves tendency to babble on about useless things. The creature appeared in front of him. He couldn’t help his smile. If this worked then he would be able to learn all three of the curses. 

“Don’t move unless I order you too!” He demanded. Taking out his wand he pointed it at the terrified elf. Elly thought of pain and how he would like to see the house-elf scream. 

“Crucio,” he said. Mute’s eyes almost bugged out and let out a small gurgling sound. Elly wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to hear the elf scream. Maybe it wouldn’t be able to without a tongue? Well, he wouldn’t know before he tried. A cruel glint bordering on madness entered his steel grey eyes. If anyone had been watching they would have been surprised by how much he resembled Bellatrix at that moment.

“Crucio,” he repeated. It worked. The elf fell down on the floor and shrieked in a high-pitched voice. He felt giddy. The curse ran through the small body writhing on the floor. Elly bounced on his feet, observing carefully as he tortured the elf. Definitely one of the more useful curses he concluded.   
Ending the curse was harder than he thought it would be. He didn’t want to give up the feeling that ran though him. he shivered in delight, and as the curse ended goosebumps rose on his arms, his cheeks went a rosy color and he felt himself harden, a small bulge pressing against the front of his pants. He would be trying out the killing curse soon. It would probably feel even better. “Don’t tell anyone about what happened here today. You can leave,” he dismissed the elf which popped out immediately.   
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Two years later… (1992)

Elly knew the story of Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. They said he had been killed by muggles. That fact alone was enough for Elly to dislike them. They also didn’t have magic. He had always been told about the importance of magic and how the mudbloods where stealing it from those who actually deserved the gift. What he didn’t understand was why they would let them into their world if they disliked them so much. wasn’t it better to leave them in the muggle world then? His aunt had laughed when he had asked her.   
He had spoken to a mudblood once in a small shop, before he knew of her blood status. She had been so ignorant and didn’t even know Merlin was real. Were they all like that? He was kind of curious to know more but still grateful that no one of their kind was allowed in Durmstrang. Elly didn’t think he would be able to be around them all the time.

Durmstrang was great. The Headmaster liked him. Karkaroff had known his parents. They had all been Death Eaters and served the Dark Lord together. It was his second year when everything changed. 

In the spring of 1992 a letter arrived informing him of the death of his aunt Cassie. He was heartbroken. He had lived with her for as long as he could remember. She had thought him everything he knew. He wallowed in sadness for a week when another letter arrived informing him of his grandfather’s Cygnus death too.   
In his grief he accidentally blew up the dark arts classroom and almost killed his professor. He had been yelled at for his incompetence and when his professor had raised his wand against him, probably to discipline him, he had snapped. Before anyone could react, the professor was thrashing around on the floor screaming. Elly had non-verbally cast the cruciatus curse. It had been enough to expel him and sent him back home.   
He had returned to Russia by portkey, finding his grandmother waiting for him. Druella Black née Rosier moved in, deciding to take care of her grandson after the death of her husband.   
-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Spring of 1993

Twelve-year-old Alioth arrived at his aunt and uncle’s house alone. A year had gone by since he had been expelled from Durmstrang. They hadn’t snapped his wand. Being a Black did still count for something among certain circles in society.   
His grandmother and he had decided together with aunt Narcissa and uncle Lucius that he would move in with them at Malfoy Manor and join Draco for his third year at Hogwarts. If Dumbledore would allow it. Elly had a meeting with the Headmaster the day after school closed for the summer and if everything went well, then he would start in the coming school year. They would be picking up his cousin from platform nine and three quarters in a few weeks. 

Settling into his new room, he sighed. This would take some time getting used too.   
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Albus Dumbledore was concerned. He knew Tom wasn’t dead. Harry Potter however was. He had been heartbroken learning Harry’s uncle had killed him in a fit of rage. It didn’t help that he and his wife had burned the body. They were currently serving a lengthy sentence in muggle prison.   
The last few years had been testing his patience to say the least. Quirrell had tried to steal Flamel’s stone. It appeared Tom had possessed him. Dumbledore had thankfully been able to stop the theft in time but not without consequences. Earlier that year, a mountain troll had entered the castle and nearly killed a muggleborn, Hermione Granger. She was still in St. Mungo’s and likely to be there for some time.   
This year a basilisk of all things had been set loose. Students had been petrified. Luckily, no one had died. He had almost lost his position as headmaster but managed to keep it after finding the diary causing mayhem. And that was what was causing him a headache now. The diary was a horcrux. A piece of Tom’s soul. He didn’t know what to do with it. He had tried destroying it, yet unsuccessfully so far. It was locked inside a cabinet behind one of his bookcases.   
And to add to his growing headache, today’s headline in the Daily Prophet declared that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. It was enough to make him get a glass of firewhisky even though it wasn’t even noon yet. 

One bright thing was the interview he had today. A new student. It wasn’t everyday a transfer student came to the school. They hadn’t had one for over 150 years. And from Durmstrang no less. He had been in contact with Headmaster Karkaroff and learned that Alioth Black had been expelled for using one of the unforgivables. That made him pause. What kind of twelve-year-old would know and be able to use them? He would see in a minute or so. Hopefully the child was repentant of his actions. A second chance could be what Alioth needed. 

The flames turned green in the fireplace before someone stepped out gracefully. Albus looked the boy over and could only think of Bellatrix at that age. He was a spitting image of his mother. 

“Headmaster, thank you for taking the time to see me,” Alioth said. 

“No worries, Mr. Lestrange. Please take a seat,” Albus indicated to one of the chairs in front of his desk. He was very curious about the child. He hadn’t known Bellatrix and Rodolphus had a child. Because it was obvious that Alioth was their son, now that he got a better look of him. 

“Please, I would like to go by Black in school if possible,” Alioth said. 

“Of course, if that is what you wish,” Albus replied even curiouser. It must have shown on his face because the boy explained.

“It’s not that I don’t want to acknowledge my parents. I am a Lestrange but also a Black. I was raised by my aunt Cassie, Cassiopeia Black before she passed away, so I guess I see myself more as a Black than Lestrange.”


	18. 18

Harry Potter and the Second Chance  
When Sirius Black is found innocent in 1989, he goes looking for his godson. The first meeting doesn’t go like he had imagined, and it is only the first in a series of events, that takes the two of them on a journey towards happiness no one could have predicted.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
Chapter 1: Treasure Hunt

January 1989

A boy stood outside number twelve, Grimmauld Place looking towards the empty townhouse. He wasn’t sure if he should try to enter of not. Gathering his courage, he decided to charge ahead. Getting inside was easier than he had imagined. As soon as his small hand touched the door, it had swung open, and the wards, many layers of previous Black’s violent defensives and paranoid protections added over the centuries, was his to control. He felt both relief and surprise at that. Before he could close the door, the Black house-elf, and old and weary thing, popped in beside him. 

“Little boy has strong magic. Little boy is master, how? Kreacher knows not.” The elf mumbled, “Strange bond is strong. What can Kreacher do for little master?” Kreacher looked surprised before bowing low.

The boy himself, was equally surprised. The house-elf was bonded to him. A slow smile crept over his face. This would probably turn out to be in his favour. 

“Hello Kreacher,” he introduced himself and told the elf of his plans with the painting of Walburga Black listening wide eyed and in disbelief at the child’s, frankly, Slytherin worthy scheme.   
It took a bit of convincing, but with Kreacher’s help, a locket was given away with the promise of destruction. The many paintings of Black ancestors were later sworn to secrecy by use of the family magic. The boy’s secrets would be his own.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A month later, the very same house-elf managed to enter Malfoy Manor and take a diary from the secret cellar underneath the drawing room without anyone noticing. The elf had become almost fanatical in his service to his new master.

Next, the boy ordered his elf to go to the Lestrange vault in Gringotts and fetch a golden cup. The house-elf was able to do so as the Lady Lestrange was a daughter of the House of Black. It was much similar in the way he’d gained access to the Malfoy Estate. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

April 1989

Covered in heavy protection and disillusionment spells, the boy walked through Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in quiet contemplation. He wasn’t in a hurry, knowing the Headmaster was currently out of school overseeing his duties in the Wizengamot as Chief Warlock.   
After fetching a beautiful silver diadem, the boy stopped halfway through the door leaving the Room of Requirement. Turning around, he swept his gaze across the staggering number of items left by students or professors through the ages.   
He contemplated what to do and reaching a decision, he flicked his wand, one he’d found at the Black townhouse earlier. An empty school trunk came hurling towards him, slowing down before coming to a stop at his feet. Swiping the wand downwards, the interior of the trunk expanded until it was impossible to see the bottom.   
Standing back, the boy lifted the wand and arched it above his head in a wide arc from left to right. Immediately crashes could be heard as the items in the large room started moving. It was a magical sight as nothing in the room stood still. Long rows of various objects started to levitate and move towards him. The many lines of items shrunk down and disappeared into the trunk.  
It took twenty minutes before the room was empty. Now a large hollow shell, it looked like a muggle cathedral. Nodding satisfied, the boy shrunk down and cast a featherlight charm on the full trunk before picking it up and sliding it into his pocket, in next to the diadem. 

He just had one more thing to pick up before leaving. Coming to a stop in front of the gargoyle protecting the entrance to the Headmaster’s office, the boy spoke one word in Parseltongue. The stone beast leapt aside, and the boy walked upstairs, still invisible to anyone who might see him.  
Entering the office, he froze the paintings on the walls with a flick of his wand. A quick search later and he was done. Carrying a shimmering cloak back down, he turned towards the entrance hall and left the magical school behind.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

June 1989

In the early hours of the day, a boy could be seen walking on the rural road towards Little Hangleton. On the way towards the small sleepy village the boy suddenly veered off course and climbed in between bushes on the side of the road. Moments later, the sky lit up in bright colours as the defensive spells around the Gaunt Shack fell. A ring was found missing years later when one Albus Dumbledore came looking for it. 

The boy visited the local graveyard before returning to Grimmauld Place, where he had been staying. The house-elf saw but didn’t mention the shrunken human bones his new master placed in the hidden cellar below the kitchen. Months of work and the expanded room had been placed underneath the Fidelius charm. The cellar, now a storage room, was hidden in plain view. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

July 31st, 1989

The nine-year-old boy sat naked on the floor in the dilapidated kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The only source of light was several white candles placed around the floor. Dusk had fallen and the sun had gone down not long ago. 

The boy had meticulously drawn out a pentagram around him with chalk and blood. Today was his birthday and he had planned the perfect gift for himself.   
Five innocent looking items was laid out at each ending point of the pentagram. Diary, ring, locket, diadem, cup. All of Voldemort’s horcruxes at this point in time, including himself, sitting in the centre was present and ready to be purged.   
The blood ritual was an ancient one he’d found among the books in the Black library, meant to purify and cleanse. It would get rid of the soul pieces but leave the items whole. The best part of the illegal ritual was it would rip the fragment of soul from his head. He would be Voldemort-free once more. Taking a wicked looking dagger, the young boy started slicing runes into his abdomen, chest, legs and arms. If anyone had seen the gruesome scene, they would probably have fainted at the macabre sight of a naked small child cutting himself in what looked to be a pagan offering to the gods. Finishing up and feeling light headed thirty minutes later, he took a deep breath and started to chant in Latin.

Magic swirled violently around him as the pressure built slowly. The carved runes disappeared again as a black mist rose from each item, screeching horribly. The last thing to happen was the boy’s forehead exploding in blood and black tar-like liquid, before he fainted in pain. The ritual was complete, and the Dark Lord Voldemort was once again mortal. Unknown to the boy, several charms and spells were removed from his person during the purging. The glasses he’d been wearing previously, would also no longer be necessary for him to see clearly, now the pressure on his optic nerve had been released earlier than before.

Elsewhere, several things happened momentarily.   
Deep below Whitehall, a glass orb containing a prophecy went dark and inactive. The unspeakable in charge of handling the prophecies was notified of a change. The now useless bauble was later destroyed in accordance to department rules.  
On Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey a startling light made several inhabitants on the street jump and turn shocked as the night sky outside their windows was illuminated by an orange glow. Around number four, the Dursley’s residence, a dome of magic crackled and hissed as the blood wards fell apart. Petunia Dursley looked outside in bewilderment only to turn worried as she saw something that could only be described as magical. What looked like burning air and molten lava slowly fell to the ground. She hadn’t seen her freak of a nephew in months and frankly didn’t care, but if the other freaks who left him here, found him missing, they would start to ask questions she didn’t know how to answer. It was troubling indeed.  
In the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts several artefacts and curious golden contraptions tied to the wards on Privet Drive and several others which purpose were to monitor the boy started wailing, puffing black smoke or melting all together. No one noticed the devices failing as the Headmaster was away, overseeing his duties as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. He wouldn’t find out for another two weeks, and then it would be too late.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Kreacher popped into the kitchen as he felt the magic from the ritual settle down. As agreed with little master beforehand, he quickly vanished the blood and gore from the boy’s face. Thinking it wasn’t against his orders, another flick of his fingers saw the previous angry red scar which had opened to dispel the evil spirit within knitting together and healing. Unblemished skin was all that was left afterwards. Taking one small hand in his, he moved little master to Regulus’ old bedroom. After making sure the boy was tugged in, he returned to the kitchen, banishing the items on the floor to the hidden cellar and vanishing any trace of the ritual with a flick. Satisfied, he nodded before going back to cleaning the drawing room. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

August 1989

On a small hill outside Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon a boy and his elf stood hidden from view, looking over the rocky dwelling known as the Burrow. After careful wand movements, examining the property protections, he decided it was safe to go in.   
Going underneath the liberated invisibility cloak, he snuck inside, managed to avoid the red-headed residents and stun a brown common rat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was sitting peacefully at Bones Manor with her niece Susan eating breakfast. 

“And then, Hannah started screaming as the mouse ran from one side in the room to the other,” the excited girl told her aunt with a hint of mischief as she recounted what had happened the previous day together with her best friend Hannah Abbott.   
Amelia chuckled and smiled at the happy girl an was about to reply when a tapping on the kitchen window interrupted their morning routine. Thinking it was work-related she rose and let the brown owl inside. She didn’t recognize it. Checking for anything harmful, she took the letter as Susan gave the bird a treat.   
Turning the envelope around, see nearly dropped it, seeing the Black crest stamped on the back. The golden skull, crossing wands and three ravens over the flowing script of the House motto Toujours Pur made the hair on the back of her neck stand. She just knew her day was about to take a turn for the worse.

“What’s wrong, auntie?” Susan must have seen her surprise, because she was certainly feeling it.

“Nothing dear, just work. I’ll be in my office if you need me. You need to get ready for today. Shower, dress and then floo the Abbotts, inform them we’ll be a little late.” She said, smiling and giving her only surviving family member a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. 

Opening the letter in the privacy of her home office, she quickly started reading. When finished, she laid it on the desk before going over to pour a glass of fire-whiskey for herself, fingers shaking. Her day had just taken a turn for the worse. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter 2: Innocent Until Proven Guilty

August 1989

A pale, small boy with black hair and green eyes arrived through the floo in the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic. No one paid any attention to the nine-year-old as he got on one of the lifts and went up.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services." A cool female voice announced. 

Harry got off and walked to the Head office, ready to present his gathered evidence to Amelia Bones, who he only knew by reputation. He’d been told she had been fair and a true champion of the law, if that was true then she might help him. Either way, he had a hidden portkey from Kreacher back to Grimmauld Place as well as his invisibility cloak for any emergency that could arise.  
Reaching the secretary’s desk, who noticed him approaching, he quickly handed over the reply from Madam Bones. 

“Please wait here, sweetie. I’ll inform her you’ve arrived.” She smiled kindly before turning towards the double doors, knocking and going inside when called. Harry crunched up his nose at the secretary’s name for him. It was hard getting used to being so small.   
After what seemed like an eternity, the doors finally opened, and the smiling secretary returned. 

“You can go in now, she’s ready for you.” 

Amelia had already had a busy day. Going down to the archives and records department, she had looked through any and all records pertaining one Sirius Black. Not finding much, she had found Bartemius Crouch on level five to hear what he remembered from the war trials’ years back. Leaving an indignant and bewildered man behind, she had returned to her office, only to be told moments later by her secretary that her guest had arrived.  
Looking up, she saw a boy around eight or nine enter her office. He looked around curiously before settling on her. The resemblance to James Potter, his father, was startling. After getting a closer look however, Amelia could see traces of Dorea Potter, Potter’s great-grandmother, who’d been a Black as well. The Black traits of high cheekbones and pale skin was indeed noticeable. 

“Welcome, Mr. Potter. My name is Amelia Bones. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she smiled kindly, thinking how serious he looked. His expression and stance as if ready to go to war. It was quite cute.

Harry relaxed slightly, not knowing what kind of reception he would get. Giving her a small smile, he took out a folder from his pocket, which looked quite comical as the paper was way to large to fit inside the small pocket. It had been enlarged magically by Kreacher, who wanted his new master to dress like he was supposed to. Kreacher’s antics only amused Harry. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Madam Bones. I’ll get right to it and not waste your time. This is a copy of my parents will, given to me by the goblins.” Handing over the folder, Harry elaborated. “The will was never executed. Instead sealed by the current Chief Warlock, who then, against my parents’ wishes, placed me with my mother’s muggle relatives.” 

Amelia knew of the will, but had never managed to see it, getting blocked by Dumbledore at every turn. She read through it and stared incredulously at the Potters’, stating their secret keeper was Peter Pettigrew. The will itself had been witnessed by Dumbledore and Frank Longbottom. This was a metaphorical bomb, that would shake the very foundation of the old goat’s reputation. She could probably get him convicted of theft and obstruction of the law with this. At the very least, he would lose some of his many titles. Looking up at Potter with surprise, her monocle had long since fallen. 

Harry took out the rat and placed it on the floor. Madam Bones looked slightly confused. 

“Use the Animagus revealing charm and you’ll see,” he said with a grin. 

She did as he said and leapt to her feet as the rat turned into a man she recognized, although he looked the worse for wear. Peter Pettigrew was lying unconscious on her floor.


	19. 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry with a new identity  
> time-travel  
> insane harry

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

January 1989

Deep below Whitehall, in a dark circular room, a tall stone arch stood surrounded by benches carved out of the cave-like floor. The arch itself had been there long before the institution that was the British Ministry of Magic had been founded. It was known as the Veil of Death, shrouded in mystery, no one really knew what it was exactly. The closest explanation given by the Unspeakables who had studied it was a gateway to the beyond. A physical barrier between life and death. The Veil had therefore been used primarily as a method for execution. Something that was later abandoned. The imposing stone arch now stood forgotten by most, only known to those working in the Department of Mysteries or those with a knowledge for the rare arcane and forgotten magicks.

This was also why no one anticipated someone coming out of the Veil. It had simply never happened before.  
On a lonely evening at a time where everyone in the ministry had gone home, the magic in the room suddenly spiked. Getting to uncomfortable levels, the stone benches started to splinter and break, a maelstrom of flickering colours swung violently around the arch. The smell of ozone heavy in the air. The pressure of magic continued to rise until a figure suddenly appeared. The man was flung hallway across the room, falling to his knees and grunting in pain.   
After catching his breath, he quickly looked around, scanning the room for dangers. Seeing he was alone, he all but collapsed on the floor. 

Sometime later, the gaunt and thin-looking man rose to his feet. His clothes were in tatters, looking down, he thought he looked like an escaped convict. Very apt indeed. Grinning wryly, he walked towards the exit not wanting to stay in the Department of Mysteries at all. 

Shuddering, he came to another circular room. This one filled with different doors along the wall. Sighing, he opened a random door and was surprised to recognize the room. Filled with clocks, contraptions to measure time and another door leading further in, he contemplated a few seconds what to do before going into the room and walking over to the tall glass cabinet against the wall. An insidious smile broke out. Liberating a time-turner and placing it around his neck, he walked past the clocks into the Hall of Prophecies. Setting a fast pace, he quickly came to row 97, where he started looking around.   
It took a while, but he finally found what he was looking for. Lifting the glass orb from the shelf, he slid it into his pocket. 

“Level eight, the Atrium,” a cool female voice announced. 

Stepping out of the golden lift, he walked swiftly towards the security guard. The man looked startled to see someone leaving at this time. The floor was empty and they where the only ones there. He didn’t have his wand on him when he had been thrown through the Veil. First order of business was to acquire a wand then. Walking over with a smile, he saw the security guard stand. The man, boy really, looked to be a rookie auror and no older than eighteen. Just as the guard was about to say something, he punched him square in the face. Going down pitifully, the guard was now lying on the floor moaning. Sneering down, he started to kick the man again and again. The bloody unconscious face quickly became swollen and a broken mess. This was the first time in a long time he had truly felt free. He kept kicking the unconscious man, in the stomach, to the face, between his legs. It was liberating. Finally stopping, he took the wand that had clattered to the floor as soon as the guard had gone down, he turned and left the Ministry behind. The guard would be discovered come morning with no one knowing why someone had beaten the poor man to death.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The man swiped his new wand downwards and was surprised with how good it worked for him, transfiguring his tattered clothes into something presentable. Dark muggle jeans, a shirt and a black cloak.  
Chuckling lightly, while walking down the empty alley, he found it amusing that the wand he had just stolen of a dead body would work that well for him. He walked towards the white marble building. Gringotts was the only thing open this late. Always ready to serve its customers. He smiled when the goblins didn’t try to kill him as he stepped inside. That was surely one thing he wouldn’t miss. He really hated goblins. Putting on a friendly smile, he walked over to one of the tellers. 

“Goblin, I want an inheritance test in private.” He said tossing ten galleons he had borrowed from one of the patrons in the Leaky Cauldron earlier when he’d walked through unnoticed.

“Fine, Wizard.” The goblin spat back, before collecting the money and calling another goblin to take him further into the bank.

Arriving in an opulent office, he was given a wicked looking dagger and a piece of parchment. 

“Seven drops of blood, no more no less!” The goblin behind the desk said in a gravelly voice. He honestly couldn’t tell them apart. The ugly little buggers all looked the same to him. 

Crimson drops fell and the man stared fascinated as silver writing appeared. He had never taken the test before. Cleaning the dagger of his blood and healing the cut, he started to read the results, paling at each word and feeling ice travel up his spine. 

Inheritance test ~ Gringotts London Branch  
14th of January 1989 

Name: Harry James Potter   
Birth: 31st of July 1980  
Parents: James Potter, Lily Evans-Potter  
Oath-bound godfather: Sirius Orion Black (blood-adopted)

House Potter /Vault: 687  
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell /Vaults: 13, 204  
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black /Vaults: 25, 26, 104, 455, 711

Magical interferences / blocks:

Blood glamour  
Blocked family magic  
Magical infant block  
Magic blocked (binding potion)  
Magic drain (blood-wards) -broken  
Magical leech (soul-piece) -broken  
Trace of compulsions   
Love-potion (keyed potion) -broken  
Mind-altering potions  
Trace of obliviations   
Loyalty potions  
Effect potions  
Tracking point (blood ritual)  
Scrying monitors  
Infertility curse  
…

The list continued and Harry could feel his magic threatening to break lose and destroy everything around him. He took several deep breaths trying to stay calm. He looked up at the goblin and saw the curious face. 

“What do you know of time-travel?” Harry asked and almost smirked in satisfaction as the goblin’s small beady eyes widen while glossing over in greed. He handed over the results. The Goblin nearly fell out of his chair in shock, something that amused Harry greatly. 

“I want the Peverell lordship. The Potter account stays untouched for my alternate younger self. The Black lordship, well, isn’t Arcturus still alive? Never mind, leave it alone for Sirius.” Harry said. “I also want to undergo a cleansing and purification ritual to get rid of all the blocks. I think a new name is in order. Can’t have two Harry Potter’s running around.” As he talked, the goblins eyes widened further and further until they were nearly bugging out of the ugly face. 

“I’ll of course pay whatever fee you want. In exchange I get your silence. What do you say about becoming the new Peverell Account Manager, as far as I know there isn’t one at this current point in time.” Never mind the family had been extant in the male line for centuries. “I was thinking Hadeon as a new name. I believe it means something like destroyer, which is exactly what I intent for the people who betrayed me.” Thinking of the revenge he would enact almost made him crackle.  
The wide-eyed goblin just stared at him. Impatient, he barked out “Well, do you want the job or not?”

“I apologize, Lord Peverell.” The goblin said, suddenly polite. The greedy creature could probably see the gold multiplying in front of him. “You’ll need a House ring, signifying your status as the Head of your family. The Peverells’ never had one made. A tradition that begun after their time, I believe.” 

“Don’t worry. I have the perfect ring in mind. I just need to collect it first.” Harry said, thinking of the Gaunt ring with the resurrection stone. His title as Master of Death had led to a lot of misery and anguish at the hand of the Unspeakables in his own time. He’ll be damned if anyone else got their hands on the Deathly Hallows before him now, primarily thinking of Dumbledore who already possessed two at the current time. He still had to remind himself that all the people who were dead, now lived again. It was a strange concept to wrap his head around.

“very well. You want the name Hedeon Peverell as the name on your account?” the goblin inquired.

“Yes, Hedeon Antioch Peverell.” Harry thought it was a good name for his new identity. Better to stay hidden in plain sight. Maybe he should adopt his younger self instead of leaving him with the muggles? Something to think about for sure. 

“We can incorporate a naming ceremony, a blood ritual, into the purging ritual if you so desire? That way, you’ll legally turn up with your new name in any identification spells and rituals performed on your person. No one would be able to find out the truth.” The goblin explained. Harry didn’t know the name of the ugly beast and honestly didn’t care enough to ask.

“That would be preferable.” He answered. 

“Very well, follow me.” The goblin rose and walked out of the office with Harry walking a few steps behind.   
After several turns and stairwells going down, they reached a large empty room with drawn pentagrams on the floor. The goblin instructed him to undress and lie down. While he stripped down, taking off his transfigured clothes, six other goblins arrived to help with the ritual. Good thing he wasn’t embarrassed about his body having an audience like this, he thought pushing his pants and underwear down.  
He was lying naked, hands shielding his genitals, in the middle of the pentagram. A goblin stood at each of the five points. The two remaining goblins drew his blood from small cuts they made on his chest. Drawing runes on his body, they prepared for the blood ritual. Their bony thin fingers ran over his body, though the hairs on his chest, along the muscles on his abdomen drawing the necessary runes. It made him shudder in disgust. He had to remove his hands and lie spread eagled as they drew on his legs and arms. The beady gazes of the other goblins travelled up and down his exposed body, able to see everything, which was something he tried to ignore by looking up at the domed ceiling.

They finally finished the preparations and began the ritual. He was covered in blood, the runes glowing slightly as chanting in the goblin language could be heard. Magic rose around them as the purging began. 

Harry quickly felt as if his veins where on fire. His stomach rebelled and he threw up a black tar-like liquid while trashing obscenely on the floor, withering in pain. The goblin chant rose higher in volume. His forehead exploded in blood and gore, expelling more of the black thickness before he passed out.   
The goblins nearly stopped in shock but managed to hold concentration and finish the ritual. The new Peverell Account Manager moved the man to a bed in an adjacent room, healed the cut on his forehead and chest, leaving behind unblemished skin. He placed the new Lord Peverell’s clothes and wand next to the bed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry woke bleary eyed and disoriented.


	20. 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Saul Croaker team up  
> MoD harry
> 
> WARNING ABUSE / RAPE

Summer 2022  
Harry Potter discovers his wife’s greatest secret. Old manipulations of long dead people are uncovered, and Harry’s fury will change the lives of everyone in the wizarding world.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

It was an ordinary day. People went to work happily, not knowing the scandal that would be uncovered before they went home again.  
Harry Potter was one of these people. As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, his day was slightly longer than everyone else. On top of that, the Wizengamot had chosen to convene that afternoon, meaning he had to sit for hours as Hermione argued with the many purebloods. Not his idea of a good time and to make it worse, he had woken this morning with a pounding headache. The plumb coloured robes with the stylish sliver initial W hang on the door, ready to be used. He detested the old purebloods and how they would address him as Lord Potter as was proper conduct for one who was Head of his House. They had called him Lord Potter-Black in the beginning, but he had quickly put a stop to that. He was no lord. The Potters had been merchants, for crying out loud. The bootlickers and stuffy old idiots could get a kick from behind if they thought he would ever become one of them. Only a few Potters had ever sat on the Wizengamot. He was however, forced to attend because of his Order of Merlin, First Class and his current job. Hermione appreciated the backup, of course, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.  
His current mood was worsened by his headache, which made his eyes suddenly go blurry. He reached blindly for his wand. Something was wrong. Had he been poisoned? Was he sick? He really hadn’t been feeling all that great today.  
He shot a blasting charm at the doors, making them bang open before yelling for his secretary to get a healer. She scurried away, obviously noticing his bad temper.  
Harry took off his glasses and massaged his temple. Losing balance, he fell halfway out his chair in dizziness before vomiting all over the dark wood floor. Before the healer arrived, a crack could be heard and Harry stood, wand out, even in his current state ready to defend himself. An Unspeakable stood in the door entrance, unrecognizable with the purple cloak and drawn hood, several charms hiding the wearer’s identity. Only the Unspeakables could apparate inside the Ministry. 

“What?” Harry croaked out, feeling a light blush over his cheeks at someone seeing him in this state. 

“I can help you, sir. We need to do a purification ritual to get the potion out of your system.” The cloaked Unspeakable said in a calming voice.  
Harry didn’t know what was happening, but the Department of Mysteries was a place he usually avoided like the plague. He didn’t like going down to the place where Sirius had died. In this instance however, he really had no choice. Quickly bending over and vomiting over the floor once more, he nodded weakly, agreeing.  
The Unspeakable took a strong hold of his arm and side-apparated them further below the ministry. Arriving in a ritual chamber, the unknown Unspeakable gently led Harry to the middle of a huge pentagram drawn on the floor. Lying down, his headache abated a bit, but still made his vision swim.

“I would wager a guess and say you’ve been dosed with a love potion. Showing the normal indications, after all, of someone who is trying to resist.” The purple hooded man mused out loud. There was a slightly masculine tenor in his voice, Harry observed. Love potion? Who in their right mind would try to dose the Head of the DMLE with a love potion? Harry’s mind was reeling with possible suspects, but unable to think clearly. 

“This might hurt slightly, but afterwards you should be feeling much better.”

Harry had never used this particular ritual before. He had obviously heard of it. It was standard procedure to undergo if an auror had been poisoned. He should probably have used it before now with all the shit that had been happening throughout his life. Harry felt a burning sensation in his stomach and throat as the Unspeakable started a Latin chant which flowed into Gaelic. The burning sensation travelled from his stomach to every vein in his body. He felt like he was on fire. Suddenly arching off the floor obscenely, Harry threw up vast amounts of black sludge. It looked like tar and made him gag, desperate for air. He fainted, the burning pain like a thousand knives stabbing him from the inside. In his unconscious state, he never felt the magic in the room reach unbearable heights, the smell of ozone strong.

Saul Croaker, Head Unspeakable, staggered back in shock as the scar on Harry Potter’s forehead burst open, releasing more of the black thick liquid. He was pressed up against the far wall as the magic in the room created a visible maelstrom around the unconscious body. Flickering colours of silver flew violently around the Boy-Who-Lived, destroying the very floor at the same time.  
Saul was at a loss. This was no mere love potion. Something unusual was happening. He feared the Head of the DMLE, the Man Who Conquered, would succumb to the powerful magic and die, which wouldn’t be a good outcome at all. He couldn’t help but respect the man who had saved their society in their darkest hour.  
Coming out of his shock, he tried to end the ritual before it killed them both. Unsuccessful, Saul watched as three items appeared out of thin air. This time he went numb with surprise, his mouth dropping, eyes wide. A shimmering cloak billowed around the body on the floor. A wand that looked suspiciously familiar circled around the cloak. A black stone hovered around the wand. Potter rose from the floor, levitated by some unseen force. Before Saul had a chance to react, the three items merged together, forming an orb of pure white light. He had to shield his eyes, but still managed to see the light slam into the chest of Potter, who absorbed the legendary Deathly Hallows. Saul swallowed nervously, not knowing what to do. Should he tell Potter what just happened or observe the man from a distance. This was definitely unprecedented.  
His department had always had an unhealthy obsession with powerful and obscure magic, and it didn’t get much more powerful than what he had just witnessed, relieved no one else had seen the honestly, baffling occurrence. He was already going over the situation from multiple angles and made a mental list of things that had to happen as soon as possible. A groan from the body, which had dropped to the floor, took him away from his thoughts. 

Harry felt magic wash over him as the sticky unknown liquid vanished from his clothes and face. Blearily opening his eyes, he saw the Unspeakable look down at him with a concerned face. The purple hood now withdrawn. The older man had greying hair and strong features. He looked kind but stern at the same time. The man’s eyes widened comically as he swept his gaze over Harry’s face. 

“How are you feeling Mr. Potter?” the man asked nervously.  
Why was the man nervous? How was he feeling? Harry took stock of his body and with surprise noted the airy and clear feeling. It was as if a cloud had been lifted from his mind and a weight of his body. He felt very different. Something huge had just happened. He slowly rose to his feet and faintly noticed a difference. His balance and height had changed. He looked around and was surprised at how sharp his vision was. Everything stood out clearly. Reaching up, he grasped for his glasses which wasn’t there. Blinking in surprise he noticed his hand. It too was different. Pale and delicate, flawless skin, a far cry from the callused hands and scar riddled tanned skin he was used to seeing. Wide eyed he looked up at the Unspeakable, who now looked uncomfortable, concerned and shocked at the same time. Right, he hadn’t answered his question.

“What happened?” Harry said, eyes widening further at the change in voice. What the hell? The light and harmonious voice shocked him. That was not how he usually sounded. With a feeling of dread, Harry waved his hand wanting to see himself, unconsciously conjuring a mirror both wandless and silent. 

Saul nearly fainted at the casual display of magic which he knew Potter couldn’t normally have done. Seeing the man changed into a younger version, a boy really, had made him want to sit down. The changes where staggering. What the hell had the Deathly Hallows done?

Harry staggered back in shock as he took in his appearance in the full body mirror. The forty-one-year-old now looked like a teenager, no older than sixteen, maybe seventeen if one was to push it. He didn’t even look like himself. He hadn’t looked anything like this when he was younger. Unnaturally pale with higher cheekbones. His features had changed drastically, and he now looked more like Sirius, his heart wrenched painfully. A cross between his godfather and great-grandmother, who had also been a Black. He had seen photos of Dorea in the Potter vault at Gringotts. Good God, he looked like Bellatrix. The curly black hair falling gracefully around his androgynous face.

He turned towards the Unspeakable in anger, “what the hell did you do?” 

Harry didn’t notice his magic lashing out, creating an invisible wind that made his clothes and hair move unseen. It made for a frightening scene, and Saul knew he had to show Potter what had happened or be killed. The magic was already pressing against his throat as if wanting to suffocate him, to snap his neck. 

“I’ll show you! A pensive. In my office,” he desperately tried to convince the Head of the DMLE. This wouldn’t go down well with anybody. What a mess.  
Harry’s shoulder sagged and he nodded once. The Unspeakable took Harry along for another side-apparition. They appeared in a cluttered office, shelves with books going from floor to ceiling. Looking around curiously, he saw the Unspeakable extract his memory into the pensive.

“My name is Saul Croaker, by the way. Head of the Department.” Harry raised an eyebrow before taking the extended hand, shaking it. He couldn’t help but find a small amusement in the Unspeakables paranoia. This was the first time in over a decade he had ever met the face behind one of the purple hoods. The cloak and dagger felt unnecessary, yet strangely comforting. The anonymity they had in their job had to be nice. Harry had always longed after just being normal, but that would never be an option with the titles as the Boy-Who-Lived and now The Man Who Conquered forced upon him.  
Diving headfirst into the pensive he witnessed the Deathly Hallows and what happened after. His first reaction after coming out of the runic bowl was to curse loudly. He steadfastly ignored the fact that he now looked no older than his oldest son. 

“Why can’t I just have a peaceful life for once. What have I done to deserve this!” Harry felt indignant and numb. Why did these things always happen to him? Remembering what had caused all this in the first place he asked a question.

“Did you figure out if I had been dosed with a love potion? And is there a way to know who did it if so?” It was something that always infuriated him. As an auror, several of his cases had involved love potions. The only way to find out who dosed someone was to catch them in the act of brewing or dosing their victim, which always made it hard to solve. Maybe the Unspeakables knew something he didn’t. 

“It is likely. You were definitely dosed with several potions, as the large amount of black liquid you had in you confirm. Whether it was a love potion or something else is hard to discern. You also had something in your scar which the purification ritual took care of. What it was, I have no idea.” Saul answered back, trying to come up with logical answers.  
Harry had seen the black goo erupt from his scar, nearly causing him to faint. The repercussions behind that made his heart thump faster. Lord Voldemort’s unknown horcrux was supposed to be gone. He remembered the forest and the Battle at Hogwarts clearly. Then there was the incident two years ago with Delphini Riddle. No, Voldemort being able to come back was not something he even wanted to think about. 

Saul watched as Harry paled drastically, his pale skin looking milky white. Definitely not natural, he thought.  
“You can take an inheritance test through Gringotts. It would show more information of what you were dosed with and possible by whom. The goblins charge a ten-galleon fee for it.” 

“I didn’t know. Really?” Harry had never heard anything about an inheritance test, then again, most purebloods already knew what they owned and didn’t like goblins much, certainly not enough to get help from them. Harry’s own relationship with the little buggers had been strangled since he had broken in and freed one of their dragons over a decade ago. 

“I’ll do that right away. Whoever did this won’t just get away with it.” Harry said in a strong voice, which annoyingly only sounded feminine to him with the change. “I promise to return. I bet you’re curious about the Hallows? Also, can this... transformation be undone?”

“Just a little,” Saul chuckled. “and I’m afraid not. Whatever the Hallows did to you, I think it is permanent. We are talking about some of the most legendary and powerful, if not the most powerful artefacts in the world. However, it would require further testing to be sure.” 

“great,” at least sarcasm was still noticeable with his new voice. Harry rose ready to find out who he would have to hunt down to get payback for all this happening. 

“Here,” Saul handed him a purple Unspeakable robe. Seeing Harry’s raised eyebrow, he elaborated. “It can offer you anonymity and you’ll be able to get to Gringotts faster. No one will bother you when wearing one of these. It also hides your new features, which would probably draw attention, so similar to the Blacks as they are.” 

Harry took it and after drawing the hood up, disapparated out, forgetting it should be impossible for him with the Ministry and Unspeakable wards around the office. Saul nearly fell out of his chair in shock. What the hell had happened to the boy’s, man’s magic?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

The now younger-looking Harry felt himself going through the sensation of apparition. It was however not nearly as uncomfortable as usual. Instead of the squeezing feeling, it was only as if he was wading through water, before appearing silently at the apparition point in the Alley. Moving out of the way, he shook his head in confusion and annoyance. Why couldn’t he catch a break? Even his magic had changed. Moving determined towards the marble building, he noticed people sneaking glances at him, moving out of his way quickly as if afraid to annoy him. Smiling, he would see if it was possible to keep the cloak. It was dead useful.  
Nodding to the goblin guards, he strode inside and walked towards the teller at the end of the long isle. 

The Head Teller raised his head as one of the Ministry’s Unspeakables strode towards him. It was rare seeing them outside their department. He raised a non-existing eyebrow. 

“What can Gringotts do for the Department of Mysteries today?” he asked, slightly curious. 

Harry startled slightly at the curious and oddly polite greeting. “I’m here on a private matter. I would like an inheritance test.” Handing over the ten galleons. “In private, please.” He added, seeing the curious looks the other witches and wizards gave him.

It didn’t take long before he sat in an opulent office, parchment and dagger in front of him. He lowered his hood, getting another curious raised eyebrow from the goblin who had followed from the Main Hall. Harry supposed the Unspeakables who visited the bank didn’t usually show themselves. Then again, this was no ordinary visit. 

The Head Goblin didn’t recognize the teenage boy. He did however wonder when the Ministry had started hiring minors. The boy looked too young to be an Unspeakable. 

“Take the dagger and put seven drops of blood on the parchment.” The goblin instructed.

Harry picked up the golden dagger and quickly cut his thump, letting seven drops fall, before healing himself wandlessly again. This time he noticed his unusual magic and stared at the healed cut, only seeing unblemished skin. The dagger was cleaned of blood with another thought. Before he could panic of his increased magic, silver writing appeared on the parchment. He started reading, immediately paling and feeling ice run through his veins with each new word. 

Inheritance test ~ Gringotts London Branch

Name: Eliath Arcturus Black-Lestrange  
Birth: July 2nd, 1980  
Pure-blooded  
Parents: Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black-Lestrange  
Scion to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black  
Heir to the Ancient House of Lestrange  
Oath-bound godparents: Arcturus Black, Narcissa Malfoy

Adopted name: Harry James Potter  
Blood-adopted parents: James Potter, Lily Evans-Potter  
Heir to the House of Potter  
Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell  
Oath-bound godfather: Sirius Orion Black

Wedded Wife: Ginevra Molly Weasley  
Heir and Children by blood: None

Magical interference / blocks:

Blood glamour  
Family magic (locked by adoption ritual) -broken  
Magical infant block -broken  
Magic blocked (binding potion)  
Magic drain (blood-wards) -broken  
Magical leech (soul-piece) -broken  
Trace of compulsions  
Love-potion (keyed potion) -broken  
Mind-altering potions  
Trace of obliviations  
Loyalty potions  
Effect potions  
Tracking point (blood ritual)  
Scrying monitors  
Infertility curse  
…

Harry stopped reading the list that continued further down. He felt sick and quickly turned his head as bile rose. He threw up on the gleaming marble floor, feeling his entire world shatter and break. His children weren’t his. He was infertile, if the parchment told the truth. He was breathing heavily and could see his vision swim. What? It couldn’t be real. It had to be fake. A joke.

“I assure you the test is real. Blood doesn’t lie.” The goblin answered. Harry hadn’t even realised he had spoken out loud. He wasn’t a Potter. His parents. Oh god, Bellatrix was his mother. Sirius. Harry felt lightheaded. After coming out of the purification ritual, he knew this had to be the truth. Looking down at the list, he saw several potions still in effect. He wasn’t clean yet.

He felt defeated. After everything he had been through, this was just the latest punch to the gut. He was honestly used to it by now. It was hard wrapping his head around all these revelations. He handed the parchment to the goblin for him to read. Several questions floated around in his head, and he couldn’t stop himself asking.

“How did I end up with my mum and da- I mean, the Potters?” feeling confused and lost, wishing Andromeda was with him. She had died the previous year. She would have been able to find answers. Born a Black, she had been a formidable woman, grandmother and widow. 

“I have no idea.” The goblin stated after reading the test through, not revealing anything on his face. The head goblin deduced what had happened to the boy in front of him. To think it was the Head of the DMLE was staggering. “You were declared dead by the Ministry in December of 1980, a victim of the war. Allegedly kidnapped by unknown wizards from the Lestrange Estate. We know that Harry Potter was brought to the bank two days after his birth on the thirty first of July, where the Potters made you their heir. What happened in the days between is likely lost knowledge, only known by people long dead.”  
Harry felt surreal. He was someone else. Not Harry Potter. Yet he was. He wondered what everyone would say if they found out. Maybe he could keep it secret. Just keep on being Harry. He felt nauseous.

“Do you think Dumbledore knew? I mean, surely, he had to have known? Who dosed me with all those potions? What does blood glamour and locked family magic even mean?” the questions suddenly poured out of him. He felt betrayed, and paranoid, not knowing who knew or who he could trust. For now, he would trust Saul Croaker and the goblins, everyone else was on the suspect list.

“I do not know. It is likely Albus Dumbledore knew part of it as he was appointed your magical guardian after the death of James and Lily Potter. There is no way of knowing who dosed you or performed the blocks and finding out would be next to impossible without a time-turner or other illegal means.” The goblin answered. “A blood glamour is blood magic which alters a person’s appearance. Family magic is common among purebloods, who can often trace down specific abilities through the ages, such as seers in the Trelawney family, A strong affinity for potions in the Prince family or metamorphmagus skills in the Black family. The latter which has probably been supressed in your case.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond. His mind was racing with possibilities, going over memories and forgotten conversations in a new light. Who knew the truth? He felt a silent fury rise inside him. The goblin noticed the increased magic pouring from Lord Potter, shivering slightly at the cold mask that had fallen in place, not long ago. Occlumency was a useful tool to apply when emotional. The Head of the DMLE had learned that years ago after finally learning it from someone at the auror office. It had gone much easier than his lessons with Severus Snape. 

“Thank you for your help.” Harry ended the meeting, shoving the parchment with the results down one of the pockets of the purple cloak, he rose from his seat and bowed slightly, before storming out the office and through the bank. His mind occupied with a single memory of a careless comment his wife had made years ago about the Black Estate. Did she know? 

Apparating directly home, Harry arrived to find an empty house. Hearing someone, he took out his holly wand and walked silently up the stairs.  
The rustling noise came from his bedroom. Ginny must have gotten home early from work then. Pushing the door open, his mind blanked at the scene in front of him. The list had said keyed love potion, yet it was hard to believe. Everything had been a lie. His marriage a sham.  
With her back to him, he saw his wife bouncing up and down someone’s erect cock which was moving in and out of her at a fast speed. Ginny was moaning like a Knockturn Alley whore. Harry saw McLaggen, a fellow Gryffindor who he hadn’t seen in years, lying below his wife. McLaggen opened his eyes and he saw Harry, who he didn’t recognize. Mistaking him from one of the Potter children. Harry promptly turned and walked down the hallway, hearing Ginny scream in ecstasy, something she always did when he ejaculated inside her, Harry snapped and locked down the wards, violently throwing everyone else outside the ward line and disapparated away. Harry bore a vicious smile as he appeared in Saul Croaker’s office again, startling the man.

“Sorry,” Harry said showing a bit of amusement. Who thought it would be fun to scare the Unspeakables with their own tricks? “You were right. The inheritance test made a list of magical interferences and blocks on me. It seems not everything was removed during the purging. It also showed something else. Rather surprising, I’d say.” He threw the parchment at Saul, observing as the man paled and swayed, getting the biggest shock yet of today. 

“Merlin’s saggy balls!” Saul yelled in disbelief. Harry snorted before replying “more like Dumbledore’s saggy balls.” He snickered lightly, before starting to laugh hysterically, everything that had happened today finally getting to him. Saul looked on with wide eyes as Potter broke in front of him, sounding like someone with the Black Madness. Like his biological mother, Bellatrix. Crackling like an insane person. That thought set him off too, and soon both were laughing like loons. 

After calming down and wiping the tears from his eyes, Harry smiled, “I needed that.” 

“So, Lord Black then, eh?” Saul said. 

“Oh no, for Merlin’s sake, call me Harry.” He shuddered at the thought of everyone in the Wizengamot finding out. It would be bedlam. 

“It says here your birth name is Eliath.”

“Eliath? Ugh, it sounds like something the Malfoys would name their children.” Now that he thought about it, probably something the Blacks would love as well. A proper pureblood name. He shuddered slightly. “Call me Elly then.” Better than nothing, he supposed. Saul looked amused at him butchering the pureblood name. Harry felt disoriented. Should he call himself Harry or Eliath? Elly? It was too much too soon. He just wanted to forget everything he had found out. Almost wishing, he’d died of whatever had caused the potions to react earlier in his office.

There was another thing he wanted to try out. Waving his hand again, he couldn’t hide his surprise at the mirror appearing effortlessly. His magic had certainly changed. Saul too looked shocked. Harry noticed his flawless skin, no longer was his forehead adorned by a lightning scar. Hell, each and every one of his scars had disappeared. Even his eyes had changed. Now a metallic-grey, unknown to him a trait from the Lestranges. He already missed the usual green from Lily, deciding not to call her mom before he knew what had happened for him to end up with the Potters.  
He concentrated and imagined in his mind how he looked before. If the goblin spoke the truth, then he would be able to… His skin darkened to his usual tan and his features changed again as if slowly bleeding into another. This time conscious and purposely. Seconds later he looked exactly like he did before the ritual, height and all. Harry was a metamorphmagus.  
This was something he could work with, he thought grinning at Saul who looked ready to have a heart attack. The poor man could probably not handle more surprises today. Harry could look like himself and not reveal anything that had happened today. Not yet anyway, which was probably for the best. 

“Would you like a job?” Saul blurted, looking surprised at his own exclamation and Harry laughed. It was hours before the Wizengamot was set to meet. He needed to get back to his office, yet the offer was very tempting. Maybe he could use the new occupation to find out what had happened to him.  
Harry asked and together they talked it over. Surprisingly, they quickly agreed, and Harry felt another weight off his shoulders. Knowing everything would be thrown into chaos once he resigned as Head of the DMLE only gave him amusement. The look on their faces when he threw Ginny out of the Potter family would be even more amusing. No way was he going to stay married to the lying whore and the only way to divorce in the wizarding world, where magical bonds were the norm for marriages, was to cast her out from the family. He would talk to the children first before casting them out too, but honestly didn’t feel like letting them stay, knowing they weren’t his.

“About the other things on the list. Several of them don’t appear to be broken. Is that something you can do?” Harry asked, trying not to sound to hopeful. If anything, he could always find purging rituals in the Black library at Grimmauld Place. The townhouse had been in lockdown since Kreacher died, years ago. No one used it anymore. Harry felt no need to return.

“Of course. Thank you for reminding me. Follow me.” Together they walked through the Department of Mysteries. Both with cloaks on, hoods up. Walking to a circular room Harry recognized, with black doors lining the wall all around. The spinning doors left him dizzy, yet Croaker appeared to know exactly which one to go through. A hallway, several doors later and they where back in the ritual room.  
Croaker changed the pentagram with a few flicks of his wand.

“Sit down in the middle, and we’ll do the rarer purging ritual, which usually works on the magic which has been affecting you.” Harry did as he was told and tried not to be anxious. Last time, this had hurt like a bitch. 

A few Latin chants later and it was done. Feeling relief, he didn’t feel very different this time. Yet, memories he didn’t remember came to him. Obvious obliviations from his earlier life. 

Standing in the Headmaster’s office, he appeared to be eleven. Surprised at his own appearance, small and broken really. It was obvious he had been abused by the Dursleys. Ten years in a cupboard, treated like a sub-human coupled with mental and physical abuse would do that to a child. He was surprised to see Dumbledore, who looked like himself. Young Harry was stuttering, talking about the three-headed dog.  
His blood ran cold. Had he figured it out before the end of first year where he had been forced to kill Quirrell? He saw eleven-year-old Harry tell Dumbledore about the danger the Philosopher’s stone was in. Dumbledore looked disappointed, before pointing his wand at the child, everything went dark and the next memory came to him. 

It was in the dungeons. Harry ogled down at his twelve- or thirteen-year-old self, lying naked on the floor. What the fuck? Before he could even contemplate what was happening, several older Slytherins, who he recognized all as they appeared from around the corner. They laughed and leered down at the broken boy.  
Harry was going into shock, not knowing if he really wanted to know what would happen as they dragged his younger body into an empty classroom.  
Magically silenced and bound to a table, the three older boys forced his legs apart. Harry watched as he was raped repeatedly. It was like an out of body experience. Numbness, a feeling like ice, spread through his body. Soon all three older boys had used him, but before they could remove the evidence and obliviate him, as Harry thought would happen, Snape stepped inside. Harry staggered back, white-faced and hopeful. He would stop it and probably make him forget as a kindness.  
The professor threatened the students and sent them away. Harry could only think that they should have been expelled.  
Seeing Snape’s gaze roam over his naked adolescent body made him shudder in revulsion. When Snape took out his cock, which was erect, Harry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man fucked him from both ends before shooting his seed all over the younger boy’s back. Cleaning him up and obliviating him, Snape sneering down at him was the last thing he saw. 

Saul was getting beyond nervous. The magical levels had reached higher levels than the previous ritual. The thunderous look on Harry’s face as the obliviations was broken was nothing short of feral. He wondered if anyone was going to die today. Or if Albus Dumbledore was in hell for everything he had caused.

Another memory. Harry was getting anxious about what would happen this time. He felt violated. Raped without knowing it was probably the worst thing that could happen.  
Seeing his fifteen-year-old self, lying in his bedroom on Privet Drive surely wasn’t what he expected. Looking around, he didn’t see anyone else. This was obviously after Sirius’ death, noticing the tear-marks on his cheeks.  
Suddenly a man appeared after throwing off an invisibility cloak. Before young Harry could react, the man petrified him. Harry looked the man over, clueless, until it suddenly came to him. This was one of the Order members who had watched over Privet Drive. Sturgis Podmore. He remembered the 30-something-year-old from Grimmauld Place. Podmore was looking a lot older these days, Harry recalled.  
Harry witnessed as he was undressed once again against his will. The man touched his manhood, getting it erect before making him come. Harry shuddered. With the memory came every feeling and touch he had experienced. The men went on to undress before raping him. Harry saw the door open and looked over at the shocked face of his cousin, who then watched avidly as Harry was fucked into the thin mattress. He felt dirty and unclean, wishing the memory would end.  
Sturgis noticed his cousin and obliviated both of them when he finished. It was the last memory. 

Harry felt like going on a killing spree as he came out of the trance, he had been in. Looking around he saw the destruction. Thinking about Sturgis Podmore, he knew the man would be at the Wizengamot meeting, one of the few members elected by the people. Being a Lord of a Noble House would certainly help Harry tonight. Heads would roll.  
Absently he waved his hand, repairing the destruction and smirking lightly at Saul’s shocked face. That would never get boring. Locking the new memories away deep inside, he used occlumency to remove the emotional feelings that came with them. Holding on to his anger, everything else was buried. 

He rose from the floor, dusting himself off. “I think it’s time I got ready for the Mot’. They’ll probably worry if I’m missing again.”

“Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Ten o’clock sharp.” Saul replied, following Harry out the door.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Apparating to his office, he took off the Unspeakable robe. Throwing the inheritance results on his desk on top of the legislative paperwork his secretary had laid out for him, ready to take down to the courtroom. He changed into the plumb-coloured robes. The ridiculous hat made the outfit worse in his opinion. Using his new metamorphmagus skills, he stylishly arranged his hair to something manageable, instead of the stray locks he was used to seeing.  
Without glasses, he looked intimidating. Green eyes resembling the Killing Curse. He smirked as he made them glow slightly. 

He picked up the paperwork, the inheritance results, removing his personal information from the parchment and leaving behind the list of magical interferences and blocks, before striding out the room past his secretary who looked up surprised to see him. The thunderous look on his face made everyone leap out of his way. He was getting wide eyed looks, everyone was used to see an easy-going and relaxed Harry Potter.  
He was going over everything he had to do in his mind, almost gleefully looking forward to getting a start on his revenge. Ginny and Sturgis Podmore were a given. They would also be easiest to deal with.  
A bit trickier was the three older Slytherins who had raped him. Lucian Bole, Peregrine Derrick and Marcus Flint were all from Noble families. Purebloods. They had all been on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Both Marcus and Lucian had taken up the headship of their family, and now sat the Wizengamot as the Lord of their House. Peregrine’s family was headed by his grandfather, if Harry remembered correctly. No matter, they would still get the shock of a lifetime and be lucky to walk away unhindered, if he had anything to say about it. The stuffy old pureblood lords were about to get the show of a lifetime. Using their own laws and advantages of the Noble houses against them, only satisfied him more.

No one knew what had pissed of the Head of the DMLE, but the anger was pouring off him in waves, the magic almost crackling around him. People jumped out of the way as he strode down the hallway, not wanting to get in his path.  
The Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley was getting ready for another round in the fighting pit, as she liked to call it. She was about to leave the Mot’s legislative office on level two, when Harry strode past without even noticing her. She felt his magic, cold and unforgiving and saw his furious expression. Shocked and concerned, she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him so angry. 

Deep below Whitehall, the Lords and Ladies convened in the foyer to the old courtroom before the session began. That way they wouldn’t have to mingle with the electives from the larger populace. To be seen with the people elect just wasn’t done. The Elected would seat themselves first on the lower tiers, waring ordinary black robes with silver trimming, before the Lords and Ladies of the Noble houses entered and sat opposite them, two tiers higher, wearing the more formal plumb-coloured robes. The seating arrangement for the Nobles was prearranged. A seat for each house. A good number of seats stood empty these days as more pureblood families became extant. They had even removed seats entirely. Something that caused quite the scandal among the purebloods.  
They might be separated into dark, light or neutral, yet standing surprisingly strong together when forced to change their way of life. This was also one of the reasons Kingsley Shacklebolt and now Hermione Granger-Weasley hadn’t been able to change much since the war. 

Harry cursed as he noticed his missing wand on his way down with the lift. Being alone helped him, and he apparated to Croaker’s empty office. Seeing his holly wand on the desk, he quickly took it before apparating outside the entrance to the Department of Mysteries. Luckily, no one saw him, casting a quick look around. He walked down to the courtroom and cursed when finding the foyer empty. He might as well make one hell of an entrance then. 

Hermione was getting worried. The purebloods had seated themselves and was waiting for the Chief Warlock to begin, yet Harry hadn’t arrived. The seat for House Black was empty and drawing several eyes, from the Nobles, Elects, reporters and visitors alike. Other than Harry missing, it was a full house. The visitors’ gallery was filled to capacity with journalists.  
Hermione sighed. Her legislation about werewolves and vampires were getting more criticized in the press every day, and it wasn’t hard figuring out the purebloods pushing against her radical liberal ideas, as they called it. 

The Chief Warlock, Franklin MacMillan, father of Ernie MacMillan and a Lord himself was about to begin the session when the doors to the courtroom flew open loudly. Everyone turned to see who would interrupt, and several people blanched at the look on Lord Potter’s face. People started to murmur and whisper to each other and Franklin himself felt weary of Potter as the magic poured into the room, making him shiver in slight fear. Whoever had pissed off the Head of the DMLE was better off going into hiding, he thought. When Potter turned to him, he stiffened in his seat. He was given a simple note, requesting to speak to the assembly when possible during today’s session. Franklin nodded, not wanting to stand in the way of an enraged Potter. The fury he was emitting was disturbing. As Lord Potter took the Black seat several people squirmed, obviously uncomfortable with the cold magic Potter was letting loose.  
Harry took a deep breath, as he sat down stone faced. Getting his magic under control, he heard an almost audible sigh run through the courtroom. Sheep, the bunch of them.  
Looking at Hermione in the Minister seat, they made eye contact and she looked curious and a bit apprehensive, probably trying to figure out the source of his anger. He gave nothing away. No worries, she would know before the end of today’s session. He wondered if she knew. Had Dumbledore told her? He hoped the Chief Warlock gave him first word. Nothing like rocking the boat from the start. His insidious smile got several wide eyes from the Lords and Ladies around him.

"The seventh session of the three-hundred-and-fourteen Wizengamot is convened at the request of Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley," the Chief Warlock yelled out, after rapping a dark stone rod down on the podium in front of him. “First, before we start, Lord Potter has requested to speak.” Better to get it out of the way, Franklin thought apprehensively, noting the concealed fury in Potter’s eyes.

Everyone looked from the chief Warlock to Harry, who rose from his seat, walked silently down and stood in the middle of the room. Several people where quite curious about what he would say. It wasn’t often Potter talked, usually only voting and quickly leaving the courtroom. Not staying in his seat was also not normally done, yet no one would hold it against the Man Who Conquered and Head of the DMLE. Harry had quite the favorable reputation.  
Everyone was on the edge of their seat as he finally began talking, what surprised them was the quiet, almost deadly tone he was using. The usually friendly Lord Potter was nowhere near his usual self, tonight. Something several picked up on. Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, MacMillan and Hermione among them.

“I come before you, honored Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, to correct several grave injustices against the House of Potter, against the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”  
Several members jerked in surprise, Hermione chief among them. Never had Harry used the full title of the Black family before. Wide eyed, she stared down at her friend, wondering where this was going. Injustice against a house could be anything. Even if the House of Black was largely dead, it could still inspire fear in most people. The family’s status in the wizarding world never wavering. 

“First,” Harry held his wand high above his heart, the regular oath wand stance. Several eyes widened in disbelief at this. Again, something that was rarely done, and then usually only in the presence of family or in privacy. “I, Harry James, Lord of House Potter, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black do solemnly swear on my magic and life that everything I am about to tell you is the truth as I know it, So I declare, So Mote It Be.” The silence was all-empowering. He certainly had their undivided attention now.  
Casting a silent Patronus he saw several members dropping their jaw in honest surprise. If it’s that easy to shock them, then multiple people here were probably going to have heart attacks by the time he was done, he inwardly snickered.

“Next, for attempted Line Theft,” A collective gasp almost made him sigh, “I hereby cast Ginevra Molly Weasley from the Potter Family. She is from this moment on no longer a member of House Potter.” Harry could see Hermione squirm in her seat, looking guilty. Did she know? Harry’s mind raced with the possible repercussions.  
Malfoy looked more shocked than Harry could ever remember seeing him. In fact, everyone was looking quite incredulous at what was taking place. A public denunciation of Lady Potter was not what they had imagined. Harry continued in a strong demanding voice. “May magic judge her and if found guilty, in accordance to the life debt she owes House Potter, let magic itself desert her.” Again, gasping and quiet murmuring. 

“Third,” Harry stated, making the assembly go quiet in confusion. How could there be more? Hadn’t he just divorced and cast his wife from the family. “I underwent a purging and purification ritual today. The results were quite damning.” Several people sat openmouthed at his declaration. Harry took the list of magical interferences and blocks from the inheritance ritual, duplicated it with a wave of his wand and sent the copies flying to each person in the courtroom.  
After everyone had read through the list with growing horror and disbelief, Harry looked around, making eye contact with Podmore, Lord Flint, Bole and Derrick. They all looked away first. He would destroy them. The noise level was rising as people finished reading the long list. 

“QUIET” Harry yelled, instantly the noise vanished, people looking wide eyed at him. “The ritual removed several blocks. Among them three obliviations.” People looked uncomfortable. He knew obliviate was used more than people would like to admit.  
“First was Albus Dumbledore in my first year.” That gained some surprise. “Second was Severus Snape in my third year.” The three lords looked uncomfortable now. Flint starting too sweat and looking towards the exit. “Third was Sturgis Podmore.” Harry looked at the man who stared with wild eyes at the fury on Harry’s face. Several Nobles started to yell out, condemning his actions. How dared a commoner obliviate a Lord. 

“Imagine my surprise, when Mr. Podmore after my fifth year, suddenly appeared in my muggle relatives’ home, next to my bed one evening. Being fifteen, he quickly managed to petrify me,” this statement created the most yelling yet. People looked horrified, obviously guessing the direction of the story. “Mr. Podmore was part of Dumbledore’s Order of the Pheonix during the war. He was part of the guard supposed to protect the Boy-Who-Lived on Dumbledore’s order. Yet, he decided a payment was in order. Me.” Absolute bedlam. People were shouting for Podmore to be kissed by a dementor. Hermione was sitting with her head in her hands, while the Chief Warlock tried to create order. 

Suddenly, a desperate Sturgis leapt from his seat firing a curse towards Harry, who simply used his wand to swipe it away, letting it hit the double doors harmlessly. There was once again silence. Harry was smiling, and everyone noticed it wasn’t a very nice smile. 

“I demand an honor duel, here and now. Refuse and I’ll declare you an enemy of House Black. Accept and I’ll let you live if you win,” Sturgis looked like he was about to piss himself yet saw no way around it. The Lords and Ladies looked satisfied that Harry finally took his House responsibilities serious. The Chief Warlock sighed. Blood would be spilled today. He walked down from his seat. 

Standing across from each other, the chambers erected ancient wards around the seats on the order of Franklin. The floor was a literal fighting pit now, Hermione thought. Sad and angry on Harry’s behalf.


	21. 21

May 23th, 1998

The front door of the old townhouse slammed shut with a loud bang, the door woke the painting of Mrs. Black, Sirius mother, who started screaming. Harry had honestly started to wonder if she had used magic to be able to magnify her shrill voice. She was someone he didn’t want to deal with right now. Anger, disappointment and a cold numbness heightening his already wrecked emotions.

“BLOOD TRAITOR, FILTHY MUDBLOOD, OUT OF MY HOUSE! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THE NOBLE AND-“

“Shut up! You stupid fucking hag! I’ve had enough of you and your bloody screaming!” Harry yelled back, holly wand already in hand, he raised it and before he could think of a hex to use, fire poured out of the tip, his magic reacting instinctively to his wishes. The painted woman started laughing manically and Harry saw the fire did nothing, except burning away the curtains that usually hid the annoying bitch. He sneered, flicked his wand and got rid of the open fire. Black scorch marks now marred the already decaying walls. She continued to laugh as Harry turned around ignoring her and walking upstairs. The day couldn’t get much worse than it already was. 

It had only been three weeks since the final battle at Hogwarts and everything had changed. The dead had been laid to rest, not that Harry had attended any of the many funerals. He had shown up at Fred’s funeral but had to leave after numerous reporters had tried to talk to him, yelling questions. The Weasleys practically demanding him to leave and get them away. They didn’t blame him, but they needed to grieve. Hermione had left a few days after the battle for Australia, wanting to find her parents again. He hadn’t heard from her. Harry had barricaded himself in the townhouse and locked down the numerous wards raised by paranoid Blacks in the past.   
He had finally convinced himself to visit Mrs. Tonks and his godson Teddy today for the first time. He hadn’t heard from her, and Harry felt the need to see him, to be there for him. What he hadn’t anticipated was the enraged Black widow, Andromeda, looking eerily like Bellatrix yelling and foaming at the mouth, blaming him for her daughter’s death. She had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t welcome at her house, before slamming the door in his face. Harry had broken down, feeling tears trailing down his cheeks. He hadn’t cried like that since the night he had been selected as a Triwizard tournament. He felt weak for crying and very alone after Mrs. Tonks had closed the door in his face. Apparating home dejected.


	22. 22

The Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries drives the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Conquered, Harry Potter into madness because of his title as the so-called Master of Death. Harry unintentionally absorbs the Deathly Hallows during their torture. An insane and somewhat unstable Harry is thrown into the veil and with the power he knows not, swears vengeance on those who betrayed him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

May 16, 1998  
Screaming could be heard in the deepest pits of Azkaban. The Unspeakables often came to the cold and barren island to use the convicts as test subjects for various purposes. It was an ideal place for them to conduct their experiments, even those the general public wouldn’t condone. The Unspeakables had all the space and privacy they needed on the prison island. No one cared about the murderers, rapists and convicted death eaters anyway.  
The Unspeakables didn’t really care about how they reached their goal as long it was achieved. Many astonishing magical breakthroughs had been made this way. Not that everything they discovered was ever released. Hording knowledge was after all an unspoken pureblood tradition, and just like the Noble families, the Department of Mysteries had a library with books, scrolls and tomes not found elsewhere.  
They studied everything from ordinary everyday magic to the obscure and illegal. This was also why they had always been intrigued by the Deathly Hallows. When overhearing how Harry Potter had been in possession of all three, they wasted no time in getting him arrested and taken to their hidden laboratory underneath the prison. He was summarily examined and put through various tests. Some people would have seen it as unethical, but it was all done in the name of magical progress and prosperity of the wizarding world.

The Ministry made sure the arrest of Harry Potter was legal. Aurors came to Grimmauld Place two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, where the seventeen-year-old was stunned in the back and taken into custody. Even Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minster for Magic couldn’t go against it. The Boy Who Lived was quickly deemed a rising new dark lord and threat to society by the newspapers. Rita Skeeter had plans for a second book. The general public was swayed as always, continuing with their lives in quiet ignorance.  
Hermione Granger was out of the country when it happened, collecting her parents in Australia. The Weasleys and Longbottoms, along with some of the survivors from the final battle, didn’t believe it and stood firmly on Harry’s side. Not that they could do a lot about it.

Harry woke bleary eyed and confused. The last thing he remembered was standing in the hallway of Grimmauld Place with a couple of aurors. Looking around, Harry noticed he was shackled to a wall in a cell. His wrist and ankles cuffed to the wet and uncomfortable wall. He felt the cold air and looking down he was surprised to see he had been stripped naked. Definitely not a good situation then, he thought. Somewhat self-conscious and embarrassed of his forced nudity, he couldn’t even cover himself up, bound to the wall like he was with arms above his head and feet apart.


	23. 23

Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey – Summer 1996  
It had been an ordinary day on the quiet suburban street. Neighbours had been gossiping with each other. Mrs. Figg had been seen walking by, talking lightly to herself, no doubt old age catching up. Vernon Dursley from number four had cursed up a storm after coming home from work, the missus from number six having heard him yelling clearly through her kitchen window. It probably had something to do with that unruly nephew of his, no doubt about it.   
unnoticed by the residents of the street however, things were happening unseen right in front of their noses. The Order of the Phoenix was guarding the home of Harry Potter. This was happening on the direct order of Albus Dumbledore, who wanted the boy safe. The guards had been told not to interfere or make themselves known, emergency notwithstanding. They were told Harry needed time to grieve and mourn the loss of his godfather Sirius. Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, who had been watching all night, was replaced by Mundungus Fletcher at dawn, who later switched places with the young auror, Nymphadora Tonks. All standing in silent sentry, watching over the street.   
Harry himself, had long since stopped caring about the people watching over the house. He knew they where outside, invisible and probably thinking they were helping winning the war against Voldemort. He had secluded himself in his room, ignoring his relatives. Ever since losing Sirius and finding out about the prophecy, feeling numb and lost. He didn’t really care about Voldemort, Dumbledore or the world right now. Lying curled up in bed, was all he wanted. Forget the world, muggle and magical, and the people in it.   
He couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to sleep. His nightmares kept him awake. He had barely slept after coming back to Privet Drive. He ate the bare minimum. His aunt had been giving him worried looks lately, but he had ignored her. It wasn’t as if she really cared about him. No one really cared, sure they pretended to care, but deep down, all they really cared about was themselves. Harry knew this, had learned it the hard way. Growing up in a cupboard had thought him that. The fickle loyalty of the wizarding world and his so-called friends had thought him that. It was better to not get attached to people, that way they couldn’t hurt him. Depression had already consumed him. His body hurt. It was better to not move. He hadn’t left his bed in two days now.  
Harry wished he could disappear. He didn’t want to fight in a war. Wasn’t child soldiers’ illegal anyway? Probably not in the wizarding world, he thought. Those with magic, who had grown up with it, saw the world differently. He wished he had the power to disappear completely, so neither Voldemort or Dumbledore could find him, use him in their war. He wished he was dead. That way, he could be with Sirius, his parents. Harry wished for death. The prophecy basically told him, he had to die anyway. Harry Potter, lying unmoving on the bed in the smallest bedroom of number four, gave up.

The shallow breathing that could be heard in the room stopped. The scar on the forehead of the fifteen-year-old boy started to ooze black liquid as the life left him. Dull green eyes glazed over, unmoving in death. The silence in the room suffocating and all-empowering. 

\--  
In that moment several things happened instantaneously. A bright orange-blue light lit up the room from the outside as the protective wards fell. The dome of magic around number four, Privet Drive collapsed violently, the smell of ozone heavy in the air. The sound of lightning cracked loudly, startling the inhabitants badly. Petunia Dursley knew something had happened. She knew it had something to do with her nephew, and as she watched her husband gape at the orange hue lighting up her living room, a terror she hadn’t felt in years, rose up inside her.   
Nymphadora Tonks, standing outside, fell over in shock, watching as the wards cracked and fell. Something bad had happened. Where the death eaters attacking?  
At the Ministry of Magic in London, several monitors flashed in warning, as the blood wards collapsed. Old magic had been used in a muggle area. Obliviators and aurors where called in.   
In Scotland, something similar was taking place. In the headmaster’s office, several golden ornaments and small magical artefacts melted, wailed or exploded as the boy and the wards they were linked to died. Albus Dumbledore leaped off his chair, almost jumping in shock, as the loud noise surprised him unaware. He looked over, seeing the many monitors broken, was instantly on his feet, calling out for his familiar, Fawkes, to take him to Privet Drive. He arrived in a burst of flame, just in time to see the last remnants of the wards disappear.  
At Malfoy Manor, the Dark Lord holding court with his inner circle, fell over in pain as the link to his enemy’s mind was broken. A piece of his soul unknowingly destroyed. He could no longer feel the boy or the muted emotions that had been there constantly since he gained a new body. The Dark Lord looked up and saw his followers looking at him. He couldn’t afford to show weakness.

“Severus,” he locked eyes with his most trusted spy, “Something has happened. I no longer feel the link I have with the Potter boy. Find out what he is doing.” Severus Snape nodded in acceptance, feeling dread and a foreboding unlike anything he had ever felt before rising inside him, as the life debt to James Potter, passed on to his son, faded. He felt the promise he had made to protect Lily’s son, sworn with his wand and magic, snap. Goosebumps rippled along his arms and he knew Harry, his last link to Lily, had died.

\--  
Green eyes slowly opened. Blinking, Harry sat up disorientated. The white surroundings blinding him.


	24. 24

_Summer, 2022_

 

It was a normal morning for the Potter family.

 

Harry woke next to his wife Ginny. He felt her pressed up against his morning erection which was poking her arse. He leered down at her, while running his callused hands over her naked body. He kissed her neck and ran his hand through her red hair. She moaned softly, eyes blinking open.

 

“Morning, love” he whispered. She turned towards him and pressed her lips onto his. Her perky breasts pushed against his hairy chest. Harry groaned slightly, slipping his tongue inside her mouth dominating the kiss. Her hand reached down and wrapped around his seven-inch cock. She gave it a few tugs, pulling his foreskin back before guiding his manhood between her legs. It wasn’t long before Harry felt himself enter her slowly.

He turned Ginny over on her back, smiling down as he hovered over her an arm on each side before starting to thrust into her shaved pussy. She moaned as he pressed against her. He fucked her at a fast pace, enjoying the wet and tight pressure of her cunt around his cock. It wasn’t long before she was moaning like a slut while he grunted, his body slamming against hers roughly. Harry tried to be quiet, at least more so than usual, as their children where home for the summer holidays.

 

After a while, he felt his balls tightening in a familiar way, his orgasm approaching.

“Gin, I’m cumming” he grunted loudly, before shooting his load inside her with a final hard push. Harry felt his cock shot several large spurts of semen filling her up. She moaned and he felt her cunt pulse around his cock. Sighing contently, he pulled out his now flaccid cock, wiping it on her inner leg and leaving a wet trail behind. They collapsed on the bed, taking several minutes to regain their breaths.

 

“I’m going to take a shower. Better wake the children,” Ginny said, kissing him one more time before slipping out of their bed. Harry watched her walk to their private bathroom, cum running down her inner legs. He picked up his glasses, shoving them on.

 

He rose and quickly put on yesterday’s underwear. He dressed in some tight-fitting jeans, knowing Ginny liked them on him, putting on socks and a clean white shirt. Casting a quick cleaning charm for both mouth and body, he felt the magic wash over him. He didn’t really feel like shaving. Running a hand through the light stubble on his jaw he figured it could wait another day. Harry strapped his wand holster on his forearm before placing his holly wand in it.

 

Harry left the bedroom and went down the hall, knocking on the first door next to theirs.

 

“James, wake up! Time for breakfast,” He hollered, slamming his fist several times on the door. Walking further down the hall he entered the bathroom needing to take a piss. He finished, tucked himself back in his pants before zipping up.

 

Nearing the stairway, he opened the next door. His eleven-year-old daughter Lily was fast asleep. Walking over to her, he ran his hand through her hair, before kissing her brow.

 

“Time to wake up, sweetie,” he said gently. “uh un,” she snuggled into her pillow. He cast a cheering charm, making her shriek in laughter as she launched herself at him. Laughing, he picked her up and swung her around, so she was sitting in his lap.

 

“Time to get up, shower and then down for breakfast,” he ordered, putting her down on the floor. He slapped her panty-covered bum once making her shriek again and run for the bathroom.

 

Chuckling, Harry made his way downstairs where he started making breakfast for his family. Ten minutes later, James came stumbling down looking tired.

“Morning dad,” he said sitting down on one of the chairs. “It smells good.” Snorting softly, Harry placed a plate in front of his son. James could rival Ron in eating sometimes. A few flicks of his wand later and a full English breakfast was served.

 

“Morning. Any plans for today?” He asked while pouring a cup of coffee for himself.

 

“Nope, Al and Scorpius are coming home later though. We’d talked about a quidditch match. Dunno if they’re still up for it,” James answered while loading his plate with food. Ginny and Lily came down together.

 

“What? When is Al coming home?” Ginny said sitting down, smiling at Harry who gave her a cup of coffee.

 

“Today mommy,” Lily said importantly, “Jamie just said so.”

 

Chuckling, Harry replied “that’s right. He and Scorpius are flooing home from Malfoy Manor later. About time too.” Ginny slapped him lightly on the arm. “What? It’s been three days since any of us saw him last.”

 

“Oh, you just down want him at the Malfoys,” she said with a pointed look.

 

“I have nothing against them.” Harry said honestly, before mumbling “but that doesn’t mean I don’t try to avoid them when I can.”

 

Ginny chuckled and asked if anything exciting was happening at the Ministry today.

 

Their banter continued back and forth until they’d all finished eating. Harry was about to clean up when Ginny interrupted.

“I’ll do it, love. You’re already a bit late,” she said looking over at the kitchen clock. Harry swore and got up, making Lily and James snicker silently.

 

He quickly took on his work cloak and kissed Ginny goodbye, before kissing both Lily and James on the cheek, making the later sputter and flail trying to get away.

 

“Behave, listen to your mother. I’ll see all of you tonight. Love you,” he waved halfway out the door getting a chorus of goodbyes and love you too’s back.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

 

Harry apparated into the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic. Setting a quick pace, he power-walked to the lifts, trying to get past the many people as fast as possible without being rude. He greeted several other ministry workers on his way.

The auror at the security desk greeted him with a quick ‘Sir’, before he finally managed to get inside one of the lifts going up. While on the lift, two department memos made their way to him. He quickly open and skimmed them through.

 

" _Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services._ " A cool female voice announced.

 

Harry got off and walked to his office, which was located next to the Auror Headquarters. Walking by the small desk outside, he noticed it was empty, his new secretary nowhere to be seen. Closing the door behind him and settling down behind his desk, he sighed at the amount of paperwork.

 

There was a knock on his door half an hour later. He had gone through some of the auror reports from last night.

Calling for whoever it was to come in, his secretary entered. She was young, in her twenties. Harry couldn’t stop from letting his gaze roam over her slim legs and large breast before catching himself and looking at her face.

Her face was flustered, and she was panting slightly, as if she had been running. She was holding several folders.

 

“Sorry Sir. Here are the papers regarding the DMLE budget and the Wizengamot proposals from last night.” She handed over the first and thickest folder. “This came up from level nine.” She handed him another folder, “Apparently, they are counting on you coming down sometime today.” Harry sighed, he really didn’t like the Department of Mysteries. It always reminded him of Sirius. “Also, Minister Granger-Weasley asked if you could drop by when you had the time. Something about the riots, I think.” His secretary stood chewing her bottom lip nervously.

Harry looked and couldn’t help but imagine those lips wrapped around his cock, her little nose buried in his pubic hair while he fucked her throat. Not that he would ever cheat on Ginny. He loved his wife with everything he had. Shaking his head, he rid himself of the less than moral thoughts.

 

“Thank you. I’ll go see the Minister then,” he said. His secretary curtsied of all things, before flushing scarlet and fleeing his office. Harry shook his head and almost laughed out loud at her behavior. The fangirls hadn’t become less over the years.

Adjusting himself through his pants, half-hard after his previous thoughts, he looked through the folder from level nine before leaving his office in a hurry.

His head was filled with speculations on theft from the most guarded department, time-turners and prophecies as he walked to the lift. It had only been a few years since the incident with Delphini. He hoped it wasn’t anything like that.

 

Arriving at level one, he walked towards the Minister’s office. Another pretty girl sat outside and looked up as he approached.

 

“Here to see the Minister. I believe she’s expecting me,” he said. The girl nodded and told him to go in which he did, closing the door behind him.

 

“Hermione,” he greeted with a smile. Seeing his old friend almost buried in books made him snort in amusement. Always the researcher. It looked like she had an earlier start on today’s work than himself.

 

“Oh, Harry!” she said, looking up. Smiling she quickly placed down the book she had been reading. “I was hoping you had any news on the riots last week?”

 

“I have. Aurors Thomson and Diggins are still investigating, but they believe it was started by someone down Knockturn. I’ve authorized a sting operation, just signed the bloody paperwork minutes ago actually. I honestly believe they’ll be able to gather more information on the suspect, maybe even enough to arrest him.” Harry adjusted his glasses slightly, pushing them back in place.

 

“That’s great. You wouldn’t believe the number of purebloods I’ve had to reassure. One of them dies in a riot and they all come clamoring for justice. It’s unbelievable. None of them even mentioned the three muggleborns!” She told him.

 

“You know it’s always been like that,” he sighed.

 

“I thought it was getting better!” Hermione almost yelled indignant on the behalf of the three dead muggleborns who’d been trampled to death in the riot.

 

“Yeah, me too. You know we’re getting there. Anyways, I’m on my way down to level nine.”

 

“Oh no,” a grimace, “good luck with that.” He chuckled at her weak attempt on solidarity as he left her office.

 

It took a bit longer to reach level nine, below the Atrium. The lift stopped several times on the way down and when he reached nine, he was alone. He shivered, wondering why it was always colder down here.

Walking fast and wanting to get it over with, he reached the black door leading further in to the Department of Mysteries. He tapped his wand on the door. It didn’t take long before one of the purple hooded Unspeakables opened the door and welcomed him inside.

They walked together in silence and came to a stop in the room with the many doors. Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to get dizzy by the spinning room. The Unspeakable knew which door to chose and they arrived in a plain office after walking down another hallway passing multiple closed doors.

A second Unspeakable sat at the desk, with his hood down.

 

“Saul,” Harry greeted the Department Head. It wasn’t the first time he had been down here. The Unspeakables had gotten the true time-turner after the whole mess two years ago.

 

“Harry,” the older man nodded, “we have a problem.” Harry sank down on the chair opposite the Unspeakable. He had had multiple conversations with Saul Croaker before and they had built up a friendship around work.

 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Harry joked, already feeling weary. Nothing good had ever come out of this place for him.

 

“Late last night, someone stole an experimental potion,” Saul explained.

 

“What kind of potion?” he asked.

 

“We figured out a way to bottle fiendfyre.” Silence. “ _What_?!” Harry shouted incredulously. Always this damn department. “ _Why_ would you need to bottle fiendfyre of all things?”

 

Saul chuckled, “we are always pushing the limits on magic, discovering lost knowledge and figuring out new ways to utilize what we already have here.” The man looked excited. Harry had the urge to punch him. “This was one of the never projects. Magic on a bottle. It’s ingenious really. Any spell or charm you can imagine. It’ll revolutionize the way we see magic. Just think of the possibilities! You’ll be able to sell it in shops. Squibs, hell even muggles would be able to buy and use it.” Harry gaped unbelieving. Surely, he had to be joking.

 

“And someone stole a bottle of fiendfyre?” He asked wanting confirmation. Saul looked uncomfortable now.

 

“Um, no. He stole a dozen bottles.” Harry closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on with the speed of a hippogriff.

 

“And how does one use bottled magic then?” He asked, hoping he was wrong in his assumptions.

 

“You just thrown the bottle on the ground or on whatever you want spelled. It breaks and the magic is released.” The old professor still sounded proud of their achievement.

 

“Merlin, Mordred and Morgana,” Harry breathed disbelieving “save me now.”

 

Harry almost didn’t know where to start. The damn department had always been shrouded in secrecy, so he wouldn’t even be allowed to tell the aurors everything he’d just learned. They went over what they knew together. Saul took Harry to the potion lab and storage room. Together they investigated the crime scene, not anticipating finding anything, which they didn’t.

Harry said his goodbyes, told him he would have to inform the Minister, before returning to the lift that would take him upstairs to the land of the living.

 

He could almost feel himself breathe easier as he passed the atrium and returned to level two. Going back to his office, he called his secretary to get the Head Auror. Informing the man of a possible fiendfyre attack and to tell the aurors to be ready for anything wasn’t his idea of a good day.

Filing out the remining paperwork and getting in touch with the Department Head of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes to warn her too, didn’t make the day better either. It was however, better to be prepared. Not that anyone really could be ready for fiendfyre, he thought. They didn’t even know where the thief where.

 

Harry was just about to return upstairs again to inform Hermione when the alarms broke out, deafening him and everyone else. The unbearable wailing continued as he ran with several aurors to the lift. They managed to squeeze together, going down to the Atrium where the alarm had sounded. It was absolute bedlam. People where running towards the exits, falling on each other and uncaring of anyone getting hurt in their attempt at leaving. It was the riots all over again.

 

Before they could get the crowd under control, Harry saw one of the fireplaces next to him light up in green flames and a potion bottle filled with orange glowing liquid shot out. He whipped his wand around and shouted in fright and desperation. The bottle stopped midair and he took a deep breath, feeling sweat drip from his brow. Too damn close.

 

An attack then, he thought grimly. Levitating the bottle, he was just about to snatch it out of the air when two more fireplaces lit up, and then further down three others. He watched as if in slow-motion, five other stolen bottles come flying out and crashed against either floor or people trying to get away.

 

The effect was instantaneous. Five pillars of dark orange flame grew outwards and a heatwave hit everyone. The flames consumed the witches and wizards closest, frantic screaming filling the domed hall. Magical creatures, chimaeras, phoenixes and dragons rose from the fire and Harry saw people getting consumed by the flames in seconds. The wall of cursed fire grew closer at an incredible speed and his last thought was of his children and wife. His family was at least safe. The fire ingulfed him and he didn’t even notice himself screaming as he died in the burning ministry.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

 

_Unknown, between life and death_

Harry woke with a jerk, groggily opening his eyes. He was blinded by the forceful white light surrounding him. Blinking several times, he was surprised to find himself naked. More confusing was his de-aged body. he looked to be around seventeen. He was slightly weary to discover his body free of any scarring he’d gotten while on auror duty in the past years. It was surreal.

Thinking of wanting clothes, he found himself suddenly dressed. He looked around and a feeling of dread entered him. his surroundings were despairingly familiar. Harry stood on one of the misty platforms in King’s Cross Station.

 

 _‘Not Dumbledore, not Dumbledore, not Dumbledore,’_ was the frantic mantra going through his head. Harry was dead. Death by fiendfyre. He sat heavily down on one of the benches as the truth crashed over him. Tears prickled at his eyes and he thought of his family. His children.

Before he could clear his mind of the thought that he wouldn’t see them again for a long time, three items appeared out of thin air in front of him. He yelped and fell backwards.

 

“NO! I destroyed the wand,” he shouted, jumping to his feet backing away from the innocent looking cloak, wand and stone. The Deathly Hallows. He watched with a growing fear as they levitated and merged together as one. They became a bright light, hovering a few feet in front of him. As the orb of unnatural light suddenly flew towards him, Harry threw himself out of the way. It was impossible to avoid however, and the Hallows slammed into his chest. He heaved for breath as the light disappeared inside him.

A burning sensation ran through his body and he began to change, a feeling like Polyjuice. His skin bubbled, he felt muscles disappearing and growing, bones stretching and pain shooting up through his legs. Looking down, he saw his clothes slagging on his shoulders, no longer fitting his smaller frame. Shrugging it off, he stripped naked and wished for a mirror, jumping slightly in surprise when a full-body mirror appeared before him.

 


End file.
